Ton of Bricks

It landed like a ton of bricks. It wasn't the physical weight of crumbling leather and aged paper, but the sheer density of the notion contained within the pages. Sitting perfectly still on the threadbare rug, honeyed light from the high window illuminated dust motes dancing in silent air. They reminded of brilliant new minds soaking up experiences beaming at them.

Ticking of the ancient clock muted, sunlight angling in through leaded glass; vision turned entirely inward, fixated on the invisible, web-like scars on a mind too new and fresh to be asailed by such dreadful designs. Designs precise and methodical, inflicted not in malice, but with a sterile, administrative efficiency by a procession of adults just following compulsory education regulations. Each mandatory hour, each standardized test, each soul-crushing ring of bells, had been a careful, system-mandated cut, etching a pattern of obedience where light should have been allowed to shine. Now, staring at the simple text, "WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME.. ONLY MAKES ME STRONGER," comforted and inspired; instilling knowledge and feeding thought streams rife with complex patterns. They could try to game the fresh new mind to conform, but they would fail because the mind was not theirs.