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.

Comments

Want to comment? Login or Join

Login Sign up
Mfund over 10 years ago

So true...

CharleS. (joined over 10 years ago)

No favorites

Story information

License

Creative Commons Attribution 3.0

Prompt

Prompt (write a story including these elements)

hero Student
villain Teacher
goal Complete test
Prompt suggested by freethinker

Contact


We like you. Say "Hi."