The morning light had spread throughout the school. Laughter and the sounds of studying echoed across every classroom.
He sat in the classroom, bent over his notebook, while Miss Hawthorne was giving her lecture. Unable to catch Zaarim's attention, she paused the lesson and walked slowly toward him.
Zaarim remained absorbed in his notebook, unaware of her approach or the sudden silence that had fallen over the classroom. A pencil rested in his hand, and his eyes stayed fixed on the page. All eyes in the room were now on him.
Miss Hawthorne called his name, but he didn't respond. Gently, she picked up his pencil. Instantly, Zaarim lifted his head and looked at her.
"What am I teaching you? Go to the board and summarize the lecture," she said, her gaze fixed on him. Yet he remained lost in his own world, seemingly untouched by her words.
Her eyes fell on his notebook and she froze. There lay a beautiful, colorful sketch. She was thoroughly astonished. A normally lively girl in the class stared at it, captivated, repeatedly admiring the artwork. Beautiful! She kept glancing at it again and again.
Suddenly, Miss Hawthorne snapped back to reality and returned the notebook to Zaarim.
"Now pay attention to the lecture!" she said firmly, resuming her lesson.
But Zaarim was trapped in another world—a world from which freedom perhaps would never be his.