ZaDr One-Shots

Poetry

"The school district has decided that they haven't filled your minds nearly enough with their liberal propaganda, and because of that, I have to make you all write poetry. You must write it about something that matters to you. You have a week to write it, and you'll present it on Friday." Mrs Bitters sighed.

I scoffed. This would be easy. I'd crank out a haiku about Bigfoot or something, get an A, and be done. Easier than finding a UFO in a corn field in a Midwestern town.

"One last thing. The poems must be about love. Any kind of love; Parental love, platonic love, romantic love, etc. Etc. You can't write a haiku, either. They would prefer it be free verse, but as long as it's at least fifteen lines, you get an A."

Damn. There goes my plan.

Welp, I guess I'm getting an F. Great.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Let's see... Which one of the 'loves' can Zim write about.

I typed in the search engine, 'Parental love'

I've never had parents, so that's out of the question.

'Platonic love'

Never had any friends. Not that I know of, anyways.

'Romantic love'

When I read the definition, I immediately felt like I knew someone I felt that for. But who?

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

I thumped my head up against my computer desk. Why can't I just write a haiku?

A haiku, or any other kind of structured poem, is logical, methodical, concrete. But free verse? It's abstract. It's contrary. It doesn't make sense, but it doesn't have to.

But aside that, I have nothing to write about. I have no friends. The closest thing I have to a friend is Zim, and that's... Complicated. I hate him, but at the same time, I can't get him out of my mind. My heart pounds when I see him, and my palms get sweaty. Is it love? Is it hate?

That's why I try not to think about it. I shove these doubts to the back of my mind. Sure, it's unhealthy. But I've got other things to do. Like save the world.

And apparently Freshman English homework.

But that's not important right now. I've got a whole week to work on it. But I'm running out of time, I fear. Every day that slips by, every plan Zim plots, he's getting one step closer to taking over the earth.

And I can't let that happen.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

"Ok, class. Today's the last day to work on your poems. Remember that we're presenting tomorrow." Mrs Bitters sighed. She then proceeded to sharpen pencils with a knife, making them eerily sharp.

I glanced around the room, searching desperately. I knew whoever I had these feelings of 'love' for had to be in this class with me. In all my classes, actually. I had been looking through my classes, and had narrowed it down to three people. Now, I just had to determine which one is in this class.

But I didn't need to look. Not really. I knew precisely who it was. I just was searching for a fault in my hypothesis. I was grasping at straws, yearning for something I could use to negate the possibility of being in love with him.

But I couldn't. I took my pulse when I stared at him. I wrote it down as I blushed, intrigued by the melancholy and fearful look on his face.

I had a test group: The kids that practically breathed filth. I had recorded my reaction to the giant football kids, in order to eliminate the possibility I was afraid of him. I even pulled up pictures from a database of Irkens that I had found attractive during my training, in order to have a basis for symptoms of attraction.