Fandomonium

Who's Ready?

Week 16, Day 3:

I'm sick of this school and I want to go home. I'm sick of my friends and I want to go home. I'm sick of all of this and I want it to be over.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Amy wakes me up.

"Why?" I roll over and look her in the eyes.

"You're going to be late."

"You're trying to redeem yourself, aren't you?"

"Is it working?" she doesn't break her gaze.

"Almost, you still have a long way to go." I sit up.

"I understand, you need your space." Amy throws some clothes over her shoulder and she walks into the bathroom.

I walk out the door with just enough time to make it to my first class. "So who's ready for final exams?" Mr. Lewis jumps in as soon as the bell rings and his question is returned with a series of unenthusiastic groans.

"We have three weeks, please don't remind us, Mr. Lewis." One of my classmates chimes in.

"Yeah, and then we have winter break." Another one adds.

I sit quietly and doodle in my notebook. "Okay, so who's ready for your Creative Writing exam?" He asks.

"What's it going to be on?" Amy asks.

"You have to create a detailed outline for a novel or write the first chapter to a novel and include a poem to go with it. So being the nice teacher that I am, I'm going to let you work on it in class starting today. No actually creating it, but you can brainstorm."
"Do we have any limits?" I ask.

"Ah of course. It must have some metaphorical meaning." He claps his hands. "And I'll leave you at that! Get working."

There's a series of shuffling as everyone pulls out their notebooks. I tap my pen on my page over and over but no words seem to come. All that comes to my head is a story of a bunch of stupid kids meeting a boarding school and falling in love and dying but that's just stupid with no metaphorical meaning.

I work on trying to create a poem about an abandoned building:

I never thought that I would leave the lonely country road,

I thought we had it good.

I thought.

With my child and wife, life wasn't so lonely;

My child had a sandbox made out of my old tractor tire,

My child had a toy cow,

That was once my own.

The day I left my beloved home was when a shadowy figure came down the lonely road.

I never thought we would see anyone come near our old farmhouse,

But we did.

That day, the day the shadowy figure came up to our old lonely road.

He had a knife, an ordinary knife, such as the one that is in our kitchen,

Except, this one was bloodstained from the soul of his last victim.

I look to my Bible for answers.

I look to it everyday.

Not more than once or twice;

In the cold winters I would look for hope.