This is a lot

DISCLAIMER: I don’t actually believe in what you’re about to read, I want this school to hurry up and get going on this building bruh

Part 1 - The Lot

There were a lot (get it) of construction vehicles.

The landscape of the lot was a pleasantly chaotic mixture of dusty piles of white rocks and grass fighting for its survival in arid sand. The fence enveloping the length of the lot was tarnished, with a hint of rust that gave the air a coppery smell. A dark green material wrapped itself loosely around the fence. Scanning the horizon, a lone wooden post pierced the beige sand, a neon orange piece of plastic tied around the top, flowing in the destitute breeze.

I was laying down in a drift of sand I deemed soft enough to feel comfortable in, staring at the sky. The waves of wispy cirrus clouds contrasted against the baby blue tint of the sky. Despite the perceived disagreeability of this location due to it, well, being a construction site, I felt at home with the Earth. The relaxing atmosphere was more than moving enough to make me forget about any struggles I may have been dealing with, whether that was frustrating parents, lack of trustworthy friends, or anxiety when thinking about the uncertainty of my future.

Future. That was a thought-provoking word, especially at this point in my life. I was in my freshman year of high school, realizing that as I became more mature, more would be expected of me, and I wasn’t sure if I could keep up with what other people thought was best for me. I didn’t even know what was best for me, which was precisely why I wanted to appreciate the solace I found in simply lying down in this empty lot. Relaxation was hard to come by, and I knew it wouldn’t get easier, at least for a very long time. Adults had always told me to live in the moment, and now, despite my naiveté in so many things in life, I think I began to understand.

That was 3 years ago.

Part 2 - The Lot, a Lot Later (The Squeakquel)

3 years later, so much has changed. 

The empty lot that no one had faith would change was now a modern, state-of-the-art charter school building. My modern, state-of-the-art charter school building. Marco Island Academy was always trying to improve the student body and connotation associated with their name, but to no avail. I learned long ago that if you think only of improvement and nothing of what you already have, you’re never satisfied. This was precisely the reason why this building was built, but now that this star school and its administrators had accomplished what they thought would drastically improve their quality of life, they were let down.

From my point of view, I missed the peacefulness that was so natural in the original empty lot. The hustle and bustle of students milling about daily tainted the land’s genuineness. The once relaxing atmosphere was now replaced by chaos from 8 am to 3 pm, 5 days a week.

Along with the feeling of achievement felt when walking around the newly-built campus, there was also a feeling of guilt not only for the tortoises forcefully removed from their familiar habitats but because of the actual placement of the school, next to a slate-colored, sad little apartment complex. The ugly brown roof and translucent turquoise windows that made the apartment complex unique were stomped in by the perfectly white walls and sky blue roofs of the new campus that seemingly melted into the sky, as if desperate to return to the false heaven they came from.

I hope the wealthy donors who made this campus possible are content with what they’ve created… and what they’ve destroyed. This school was still a school back when class was held in portables and lunch wasn’t in a cafeteria but on a deck, rotting away.

3 years later.

you can't tell me this chipmunk aint hot