Drowning In My Words

The Monster

"I have never let my schooling interfere with my education"-Mark Twain. The quote stood loud, proud, and ironically outside my English class. I understood her reasoning for putting it there, but I couldn't help but sigh at the irony. What she had probably meant was that we should teach ourselves and look for more knowledge, plus maybe a dash of school pride of educating instead of schooling. What it said to me, however, was that school was utterly pointless, that we did not learn life skills but pointless arithmetic for bragging rights. That "school is not something smart people do". The tendrils of a heavy, invisible monster crept around my shoulders and legs, reminding me of my responsibilities. "Don't forget, you have 30 problems from the book due Monday",another tendril wraps around my neck," continue working on that ten page paper! The first draft is due Monday", the tendril grows tighter around my neck," You missed my test, when are you going to take it? You already have so much work to catch up on, you can't keep missing my classes", tighter the tendril wraps, I begin to have a hard time breathing," Don't forget today you have two doctors appointments!" A text from my mom, a heart emoji. I open my planner, and all of the words I've written come pouring out on top of me, blocking my sight, clogging my mouth, constricting my arms and ceasing my breath, all I can see are the words. Paper due, math test, doctor appointment, end of the quarter, physics exam, play practice, homework homework, 14 pages to read, notes, ACT, doctor appointment, grocieries, bring cat to vet, mom gone, important important important,plans plans plans, don't forget, the words attempt to shove themselves down my throat, I want to scream and cry but if I say anything it will only add to the words. I cannot scream. Instead I let the tears leek from my eyes, and curl into myself to attempt any form of protection against these words, these plans, this monster of my own creation. After minutes of this, the monster subsides, and allows me to shakily stand. There's no use in running, I know that. It will follow me regardless of where I run, regardless of how fast it will always be behind me. There's no use in fighting it, either. It would just grow from the words in my mouth. I wipe the ink from my face, from my mouth and eyes. I am ashamed I cannot beat this monster, I don't want others to know. They could not help me, perhaps they'd unintentionally make it grow. I take my ink pen and write another appointment down in the planner, the words quickly jumping off the page to join the rest. Mark Twain's quote, glaring at me where the monsters eyes would be, glint with glee as " Doctor Appointment" joins its rank.