Slam.

I hear the sound of the door closing, turn to see the car driving away, and with it, everything i've ever known in life.

Comfort, gone.

Security, gone.

The arms of my mother and father to ease the pain when it felt as it that all the world was made of, gone.

An yes, yes there is pain to be had here.

The pain when you hear the jubulant cries of others, their futures seemingly plotted on a map to success, a man that you seem to have never been able to plot.

The pain of seeing your teacher, lord and master of his domain, with a few strokes his pen, pass judgement on you.

The pain of the lonely night, the night when no one can hear you weep as the tears fall donw your face and you ask yourself the question that you believe everyone has already asked: What are you doing here?

Like a disease, it spreads, leading more dark thoughts to the surface. "You're not good enough.", "Ypu will fail.", "They're all better than you.". It cripples you till you can't move. You feel yourself falling and just want it all to end.

But you're wrong.

I say you're wrong because you're not alone. The map that the others cling so dearly to is ever shifting, changing to lead them in direction just as confounding as yours.

I say you're wrong because the lord is ruler of a kingdom bound by four walls and passes a judgement over a skill that will never be used again.

And I say you're wrong because, in the darkest of times, when the disease's iron clad grip takes hold of your and you're blinded by doubt, remember that this is nothing but a test. A test to see if you have the mettle to survive these four short years of your life, and you will. Your have the same right to be here as the millions who came before and you will succeed as they did.

So stand up and know that, while yoy may stumble, faint, and fall, you will make it.