Other stories for this prompt

The room was dark and hazey that morning. Im sure the night before that had been filled with booze, girls and college antics was the cause of the dry, drpessed feeling.
My proffessors voice piecrced like a knife in my skull as he said "You have six minutes to write a story. GO!" My hand gripped the chewed No. 2 pencil as I scramble to write everything about nothing.
My mind raced at the pace of a hungry slug as I stamered to think of somthing to write.
My writing skills are poor, I have limited ideas and my grammer...

"Avery," she said, eyes flashing, "Avery, Avery."

I held the snake in my hands. "I need to take care of it. It's lonely."

"Animals belong in the outdoors, not in kindergarten."

"Then I belong in the outdoors, too!"

"Avery, if you continue this for one moment longer –"

"Don't worry," I whispered, almost to myself. "Flora will get you. Flora will get you."

She came a few minutes later, rage flickering on and off in her pale face. "What's all this?"

Miss Duncan glared. "Your sister brought a snake into a kindergarten classroom."

"What the bloody –"

"Flora!" I yelped....

"Avery," she said, eyes flashing, "Avery, Avery."

I held the snake in my hands. "I need to take care of it. It's lonely."

"Animals belong in the outdoors, not in kindergarten."

"Then I belong in the outdoors, too!"

"Avery, if you continue this for one moment longer –"

"Don't worry," I whispered, almost to myself. "Flora will get you. Flora will get you."

She came a few minutes later, rage flickering on and off in her pale face. "What's all this?"

Miss Duncan glared. "Your sister brought a snake into a kindergarten classroom."

"What the bloody –"

"Flora!" I yelped....

I am not the hero of this story
I have abdicated my own starring role
I will live with that
or otherwise

I have chosen a poor teacher
or I have not made a choice
and that is the worst kind of choosing

She is not the villain of the story
I release her
bye
bye
become what you must, teacher, villain, muse

This is not a test
but I will take it
and pass it
with abandon and lust and glee
But it will not make me a hero

It will make me me

-Let's get this over with. Sister Mary said
-Fine with me. I said, trying to act tough.
-You have twenty minutes on each section, the first section is fill in the blanks, the second is multiple choice and the last section is a prompted essay. I will begin the timer when you pick up the pencil.
She said in that cold tone I had learned to loathe. She didn't have enough evidence to get me expelled, but it was enough to force me to retake the final.
-Are you nervous? She added after letting the silent tension grow. She hadn't...

The world is a thin, hollow place.

One wrong step, and you break through the shell, and you go tumbling, tumbling down.

It is oft repeated to students that an exam is not the be all and end all in their lives, that many opportunities await all in this bountiful land of plenty.

These words are reassuring, it gives hope, and puts your life into place in comparison to all the many other people in the world, with no opportunity to even sit an exam. In some ways, it makes you feel lucky for your high, pedestalled position.

Until you...

Sitting. Staring. Tears welling. Drip. drip.

No! I can't let her see my defeat.

Swallow these tears that blur my vision.

Feelings of worthlessness fill my mind, the characters on the page melt under the liquid weight of my tears. They fall to the ground with every drop of salt, under my desk. Swirling black ink meets the dirt as I grind my dreams to mud. Black, beautiful, calligraphy mud.

If only, if only...it would be so much easier to blame her. But I am the one at fault.

I love tests. I really do. Everyone just sits there staring at the paper - don't be in advanced calc if you can't handle it. The arcs, the plots, 3d graphs, cycloids, functions of the imaginary and trajectory's of murders - it's all beautiful. Each is a beautiful fractal within itself - a new function for a curve to follow.

Lets check out the next question.

"So what did Falkner mean by the word carrage?"

Crap - no more speed before English class.

Here it is - the teacher glaring at me. The sweat dripping off me as if I...

The problem is she was no hero; ready to cry, trouble breathing, and too many conjugations racing through her head to put anything concrete on the exam. She'd tried putting earplugs in to cut out distracting white noise in the room, but they only made it awkward when the teacher leaned down and said something.

"ca va?"

could she see the fear in her student's eyes? Smell the anxiety attack waiting to come out?

The girl hesitated, stumbled through some sounds, but settled on,

"yeah."

15 minutes passed, the exam wasn't complete when turned in.

Then I dropped out of...

He stares into her bloodshot eyes, her glaring furious and terrified back.

She has not slept in over 24 hours and it is by sheer will-power that she manages to remain erect and alert. He must not win.

It must be over soon, she dreams, hallucinates, cries to heaven and God and all her nightmarish waking hells.

Freshman Biology.

First it was the night sweats. Then the spontaneous attacks of anxiety. Her boyfriend left after the sleep talking began, screaming about failing and nonsense and the like.

A test? No, more than a test. This was it.

Her delusions extended...