Grace McMillan took third place in the years 10/11/12 story category of the Wangaratta Young Writers Award with this piece. The competition is run annually by the Rotary Club of Appin Park Wangaratta and the Rotary Club of Wangaratta, and is supported by the Wangaratta Library.

When I was young, it was what I thought I wanted, what I wished for, what I held onto so that I could get by. When I was young, I spent my days yearning for now, what I could do and who I would be. Now I see, it was all just a silly fantasy. For I am not who I wanted to be, and I am not where I expected to be. So what was it all for, the days I spent in my head?

When I was young, this was an age I desired to be, I thought that I would be free; free from the chains that tied me down, that made me feel like I was constantly about to drown. But those chains are still there, colder and tighter than ever before. They are still here weighing me down, I still feel like I could drown at any given moment and then fade away so suddenly but natural, like how night meets day.

When I was young, I thought I would be done, done with the pain, the pain that always seemed to stay, that never went away. It was always there by my side even at night, even when I wanted to fly, fly so high ‘til I reached the end of the sky, with wings that would take me so far; far away. But what if one day, it slipped away. What if I flew too high and ended up like Daedalus’ son. For Icarus had wonderful wings of wax and feathers, but he flew too close to the sun and so he fell. Oh, how he fell so far. I have never grown wings, not yet at least, but what if I did? Would I fly too high or would I make it far away?

It's ironic to think how I used to spend my days wishing for today and here I am still doing the same, waiting for a day that's yet to come. Will that ever really change? But who am I, if not this way? It's all I've ever known, it's always been this way. Who am I without the pain of longing for another day, just waiting for something to change? I was told to "live in today", but how can that be; when wishing for now, my future as such, was the only way to cope with reality? It's ironic to think that I thought when I would get older things would change, that I would change, and yes they did and yes I did, but not in the ways I had expected. Most things are still the same, they've just differed over the years. The only thing that has truly changed is my age.

It's ironic to think how I've dreamt of being this age since I was young. I thought it would be fun, and it is in a way, but the pain from before is still here and I'm still yearning for the day that it all fades away. I'm still fantasising about the day I won't feel the pain. Yet I still continue to live in my head, I still feel that same old dread; the one I've learned to find comfort in. I've got so used to it. Who am I, if not this way? Who am I, if I don't spend my days wishing for them to hurry up and change?

When we were younger, yes it is we, I know it is, from the pain in your heart; as you've read this and as you have finally realised what it is you have done. I know you hate it and would prefer to ignore it and bury it down, because so do I. I feel it too; as much as I have no desire to, as much as I don't want to feel it. I do. But if we think about it, what could we have honestly done? We were young and we didn't know if it was right or wrong. We weren't aware of what the severity would be, when we were wishing our youth away just waiting around for change. Waiting for the day that the chains broke away. The day we no longer felt like we were drowning in the middle of the ocean with no one to see, no one to hear, no one to help. Waiting for the day that it all just went away, the day the hurt would just disappear into thin air. When we were younger, it was what we held onto with a frightful grip. When we were younger it was what we thought we wanted.

Now we see just how much we've clearly missed. We know it is bad, but how bad can it truly be? It got us here and now we understand, we made mistakes; trying to wait around for change. What had happened to the desire to be a child and enjoy it? It was pushed to the side by the desire to grow up and reach this age. But what did we know? What could we have done? We were young.

Now we see that we can't just spend our days waiting for it to happen. We can't just dream for what could be. Yes, it helped us feel safe at the time when we needed it to. It was something to wait for, to hold onto, with the hopes of change. But even now we are still stuck in our old destructive ways. So maybe just maybe, we should learn from our mistakes, reform our ways and make the change we want to see happen, happen?