2021 English Short Stories

Examination Day

The day came around quicker than expected. A cold day, a long draining test and 150 twelve year-olds in one room. This is the idea of fun, at least for those who like the thought of filing paper in a grey office day after day from 9 till 5.

One by one children make their way into the exam room, sat at assigned desks where small, thin, opaque jars that were filled with a peppermint green slug sat on each table. Waiting to be slurped by trembling jaws. The room was quiet, only for the sound of soft tracks of observant pacing. Windows of grey were placed at the top of the tall and stiff concrete walls, the basement was cold as the white pearl fans that blew and circled air around a urban family home in the middle of summer.

As time slowly passed by, children passed and failed. Parents were either given news of success or a warning for the fine. Unable to pay, children vanish with no trace and the population slowly decreased. The 58 year plan from the president was working. Unsure if it would continue, examiners worked every year ticked and crossed papers. The constant sound of clicking pens added to the dragging sound of blue and black ink. Slowly pacing back and forth as words were created, futures were destroyed. Hearts broken.

The shadows in the room slowly disappeared into the night, while the last ten children entered, sat in their seats and slurped their slug of peppermint as though it was their last meal. The clock ticked slowly, to the top and ink flowed as the word Startleft the lips of a deep, croaky, mysterious voice. Silence fell once more. Scattered sighs would be let upon the air as disappointment was found.

Correct, correct, incorrect, correct, incorrect. Failed

The last call to be made was to the Jordan family. Richard was smart and intellectual, he completed his test quickly and for the time remaining tapped his feet to a steady beat, looked around the room day dreaming and read his answers. Questioning whether he should adjust them. His eyebrow would raise, only to rest again after his eyes jolted back to the start of the sentence. His scrambled, stressed and squished handwriting showed difficult. Letters were squished together and then found miles a part, it was clear he didn't want to lose his thought process as though he was running out of time.

"Hello?" a concerned voice, questioned from the other end of the line.

"Yes, Mr Jordan?" I asked responding quickly, "You have two days to pay unless you want us to use him." The conversation ended with a cry, the phone beeped and I turned my head towards the small boy, who sat slouched in the stiff metal chair.