'Text always reflects the context in which it was written. Discuss with close reference to the text studied in class.'
Imogen Ditcher was anxious. It wasn't an unusual occurrence.
She gripped her pen harder. It was the planning time of the exams which was the worst. Time to plan. Make no mistakes. Prevent mistakes.
Essay.
Context.
Poem.
Keats.
Panic. Panic.
PANIC!
The girl next to her subtly nudged her. She pointed to the pen which Imogen was tapping against the table. The beat of the pen matched Imogen's racing heart. That and her hand was shaking so profusely she couldn't control it.
As if the pen was burning her hand she let it go. Instead of it dropping onto the table or to the floor, it was flung across the room. The pang in her gut deepened. Everyone was going to look at her and think she was an idiot.
She took in a jagged breath, pulling another pen out of her pencil case.
4:57
4:58
4:59
"Class begin to write your essays," the teacher said.
All of a sudden thoughts hit Imogen like a freight train. She felt like she was sinking. The only thought she could pick out from the hundred bouncing off her skull was: I'm going to fail.
"Miss Ditcher."
Imogen looked up. She clutched her stomach praying for relief. The teacher motioned for her to come up the front. Everyone will look, she thought. I don't want to go up. I don't want to go up.
She swallowed audibly. With shaky steps she walked forward. Fear and lack of direction marred her complexion.
The hyperventilating started. She was in too deep. Normally she would have made her way to the teacher. She was unable to. She fled to the door, the fight or flight response kicking into overdrive. She viciously pulled it open.
Warm breeze hit her face as she ran to the nearest toilet block. The breeze did nothing to calm her. She ran into a vacant bathroom stall and locked the door.
The glass shattered.
A/N: So this is my new project. Dedicated to @stereoactive for the amazing cover. This story will probably be going for a couple of weeks and I have over half of it prewritten. It does get lighter than this.
Any grammar, spelling or confusing things let me know I will do my best to fix them. By the way this is set in Australia so it is Summer here jut in case anyone thinks I'm strange for writing a Summer story in winter.
Hope every one had an amazing Christmas and is enjoying their holidays. Another update should happen very soon.
Thanks for reading.
Euphoria :)
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Killing Keats
Short Story"Killing context one text at a time." Imogen Ditcher's main goal for the Summer holidays was to finally put her past behind her and confront her long dead arch nemesis, English poet, John Keats. The only way of doing so: barbecuing every text she st...
