Fabrications 11

3 June 2014Teagan W, Mackenzie '15

Alphabetical seating, always alphabetical. Does the College Board really need to know what language I speak at home? You may now open your test booklets. Good luck. One hour, go. Nineteenth century prose first? I got this… I changed my mind, I don’t got this. You have two hours to write your essays. My printing is an indecipherable mess. My writing much less wise and scholarly Than earlier renditions in the classroom. Heart aching, head pounding, Um, shouldn’t that be the other way around? The words I yearn for are shy and nervous Hidden in the gaps between the obnoxious distracti….. My hands are sickeningly moist; is it hot in here? Could we open a window? No, focus. Write now, die of heat stroke later. All is quiet but for the scratch of my pen, and fifty other students’ pens. Oh, are you kidding me? Would you please just stop sniffling kid two rows ahead, thirteen from the right (five from the left)? Forty minutes have now elapsed drones the invigilator Really? Who uses “elapsed” anymore? My essay is shaky; Mr. Collis would not be proud. Time is marching steadily. I’ve been preparing for this exam for over a month. More than any other exam. Ever. Why didn’t I go to health center today? My hand flies across the page, scribbling fervently. You have forty minutes left, you should be starting your last essay. Pssh, I’ve already started. At the end I’m scrawling the final sentences into what little space I have left, I pray for more time, Will negotiate with the devil if necessary. Time is up, put down your pens. Sitting back in my chair, I glance around at the faces surrounding me Some stricken, some relieved, some looking like they haven’t decided whether to cry or laugh. Shuffling out like sheep we disperse to our various classes. And I? Now I’m going to write a math test. Teagan W, Mackenzie ’15

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