Death by sleep

The Winner of Last Friday's Trivia Quiz

Bow-front High School might not have been the best of high schools but it had one of the best English teachers (at least in my opinion). Mr Chester strided into the class, a joyous skip to his step, leaving all of us to wonder what he could be so excited about. After the general chatter of the class died down, he turned to us, beckoning widely "In this short time I have seen all of you grow immensely as I have planted you and laboured to make you flourish in your writing." he turned to me, "Isn't that right, Mack?" I beamed with pride, remembering the countless projects I had executed effortlessly, my blood red pen glistening in the morning sunlight as I write my battles away. He turned back to the class "I am sure you all remember our trivia game from last Friday? So the prize of the competition is..." We stared at him in anticipation. No amount of emails could convince Chester to reveal what this mysterious prize would be. And seeing that the winner was Donald, the creepiest pervert to walk this earth, it was crucial to know how much potential this prize could have to contribute to our collective suffering. I really hoped it was nothing major; me and Donald didn't exactly have the best of relations and I knew he was out to get me.

 Behind me the gossip club, or the "three witches" as me and Bianca called them, were snickering and repeating something that sounded like "hail, hail hail". Intrigued, I leaned back to eavesdrop on their conversation. Willa (the first "witch") snorted "Look at Mack, already Mr Chester's favourite". Well I guess that was true. I mean being president of the Model UN club, vice president of the Bow-front Booklovers Association, and being an avid participator in ELA certainly must have had an effect on that. They were probably just being jealous of me as always. I started to turn around when I heard Wendy (the second "witch") whisper ominously "And the winner of last Friday's trivia quiz, sksksks." and they all burst out giggling in a similar way. Either they were just acting like the dumb VSCO girls they were, or they were actually on to something. I turned back to listen so I would see if they could perhaps tell me more, the imperfect speakers they were. "And soon to have absolutely the most perfect essay here after." Winnay (the last "witch") sniggered gleefully while beckoning to the rest of the club to follow her out of the classroom. Damn, I wish they had stayed! What did they mean by most perfect essay? According to Mr Chester no one has ever written a formal essay that has earned an "Excellent" in all the categories. I shrugged to myself,. They were probably just making up a bunch of nonsense in any case. I turned back to look at the front of the class where a bunch of other students were edging on Chester to stop pausing and just tell them the prize.

 "Alright, alright, I'll tell you I promise. Just wanted to see how much I could get on your nerves." He held his hands up in surrender. I rolled my eyes. Classic Chester. He was probably going to ask us to give him a drumroll any second now.

 "Alright, give me a drumroll!" I knew it. I sighed in exasperation while thumping my hands against the desk. "The prize is... Being able to choose the topic for the next essay!" The drumroll stopped as the students stared at each other in confusion, chattering to elevate this fact. After he had calmed down the class, he resumed "So, to explain, the next assignment I'm giving you is to write an analytical essay on a literary device that might have a deeper meaning in the play Macbeth. Based on that, form a conclusion or "theory" that you will support using quotes from the play itself, or, if the situation allows it, from other Shakespearean plays or articles that relate to his plays, depending on how you're going to use it. The reason I am having you all write this essay using the same literary device is so I can see your different perspectives on whatever the chosen device is. Does that make it a bit clearer?" He observed the class expectantly. All he received back was the blank, shocked expressions from the students only now feeling the full realization of the doom that was upon them.

 This was a disaster! Now Donald had the power to ruin all our marks! He could choose something so hard and limiting that none of us would be able to write anything even near decent! I might as well just kiss my dreams and good reputation goodbye then; after this essay receives its horrible mark, I would never be able to sleep peacefully again knowing I had failed so badly! Well, here comes the verdict. "Not to over excite you any further," he marked to the class's stunned reaction, "but I have some more news for you!".