A struggle to prove one's worth

The clock went 'ding' when it struck 1 

in the morning, I was lying on my bed, awake and lost in thought. His words continued to linger in my heart and soul. My pillow was wet and my vision was blurry. 

I wiped away my tears and sat up 

straight. I looked at my dustbin where my half burnt script rests. I picked up my crutches and walked up to the window. The world outside my window was grey in color. 

He said that I won't succeed as a screenwriter in life and that I was another cripple who wanted to hit it big in the world. The water droplets were dancing to a tune on top of my roof. I saw a flash of light through my window and then there was a clap of thunder.

I then thought who is he to decide my future? I still have my script." Or at least I had it until a senior who has no cinematic knowledge realised I had written something better and artistic than him. If only I hadn't taken a detour to the old nursery that is abandoned near the school building, my script would still be intact. Two years of hard work lost in a 2 minute fire. My life has got to be the worst one ever. I ain't got no legs and I lost my only copy of my best script. My teacher was blinded by his own ego that I, a son of an illiterate can't possibly rise higher than him and a senior who thought watching random romance flicks gives him cinematic knowledge burnt my hard work because he saw the potential in it. A bolt of lightning struck the tree opposite my window and it caught on fire. I realised then that I could escape my reality through my notebook. I could write a poem so powerful I could start a revolution. I could write a poem so sad that it can move people into thinking about the people like me. It's just one script. I know it like the back of my hand. I can write it back again in another two years worth of effort . I knew right then this rage and grief inside me had to be channeled out of me some how, I thought. So I picked up my pen and flipped my note book open. I wrote a poem and fell asleep the next day, only to get up and go back to school with the attitude that I'm not inferior to anyone. I can break their walls of perception. I've seen what my existence have done to people around me. One guy was afraid of my work and one knew I would rise. I'm not inferior, my feelings had been locked up, preventing me to think. Now that my feeling are out of me. I can think properly. I walk up to the bully and stand chest to chest with him. He stares at me and asks me what my problem was. I didn't reply. His fist came charging at me, I grabbed his metal sipper and gave him a hard blow on his head.........