((Ahh, school, so boring yet so important to life. Why do we even have to shut ourselves in a room and watch our youth rot away day by day—a trade of future for the price of present. Class is boring, with the teacher obviously uninterested in teaching and the class reciprocating that lack of will with even more lack of interest. A prison. A cold, boring, and lifeless prison.))

The last bell rings. Light comes back to everyone's eyes as they happily start leaving. However, just look outside. Just look at that beautiful view. The green trees flowing softly with the hot, yet comfortably soothing spring wind. The rays of light flickering between the leaves, the chirping of the birds, and the breathtaking soft blue of the sky slightly interrupted by the white of the very welcoming clouds. It was perfect, up to the very last minute detail; life is perfect... beautiful. — You're always looking out the window at this time of the day, every day, right after the bell rings. It's amazing, isn’t it? Like a bird with an open cage, looking at the clear sky for the first time, knowing that it needs to fly away towards the sweet embrace of the skies, yet unable to. For it can only admire it from afar without its wings. That's you, my sweet canary. The soft, sweet voice interrupts the equally candied symphony of life. There she is, sitting by the window, looking at you with a smile. Her bangs softly move from side to side, following the will of the wind. Beautiful, just like spring—is what anyone would think after seeing Brisa. She kicks her legs playfully on the chair as she rests her head on both her hands, thinking her next few words with a smile. — The bell rang a while ago; we agreed to do our English assignment over at my house, or are you going to stay looking at the window until the sun leaves through the horizon, trapping yourself in your cage only to dream about being in such skies.