The Power of One

Wow.
Wow.
Wow.
Today in English class we finished watching the film, The Power of One.
Oh my gosh was this ever an incredible movie.
It was beautiful, just amazing. The way it was filmed, the African singing, the inspiring message. It was just magnificent.
It's is about an English boy who lived in South Africa at the time of a apartheid. The Dutch and the English had fought for South Africa and eventually the Dutch won so the English were looked upon, well rather negatively. It goes on to tell of this boy's life, his struggles as an English boy in boarding school, his forbidden love for a Dutch girl and love for the natives of South Africa.
If you haven't seen it, I 302.8% recommend it!
Now on to the real story.
So there I was, sitting in the middle of English class. With my best friend beside me.
We were just chilling. Just watching the movie.
Of course, it was pretty violent and graphic so I was turning away at times when I thought my gag reflex just might have gotten a little too much exercise but I was enjoying it. There was the little romance and the rebellious teaching of reading and writing to the black people, it was very good.
Then it hit me.
All of a sudden, something happened to a certain character (who I will not reveal just in case you watch it) and I was done.
Tears in my eyes, wait!
Tears streaming down my cheeks!
My throat tightened, and I wanted to burst.
But remember, I'm in the middle of English.
I turn fiercely backward to give my teacher a look. She knows I hate that stuff.
She knew.
And yet she didn't prepare me.
I said to her "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!".
Then I turned around and continued to cry.
I wanted to let it all out, to just release.
But I couldn't.
And I didn't.
My best friend beside, thankfully, was doing the same as me.
Needless to say we had a pretty emotionally draining day.
I was emotionally exhausted and wanted to just curl up in my bed with some tea.
I couldn't do any work after that. I was too unfocused, too worn.
The worst part about this is that the English class who had it in the afternoon didn't cry, but laughed.
After I had fell apart. I broke.
They had laughed.
I came in to their class during my work block, expectiing to see their faces stained with tears.
What I found was much worse.
Their smiling faces, their cheery tones.
They weren't shattered, they weren't sad.
They told me they had started to laugh and began talking quite loudly at the part where I had practically died.
Our class was silent, sniffling, and whispering angry and frustrated comments.
What a feeling.
So when you watch The Power of One, I hope you cry. I hope you die a little bit inside.

Or at least show some sad'ish' emotion!