Ink
She watched the ink spread across the table, spilling from the overturned bottle in a steady stream, the darkness seeping into the pages of her exercise book, becoming one with the meaningless words she had scrawled over the past few months. Imagining little black fish swimming through the expanding lake, swimming to wherever the liquid would end, swimming quickly as if they were in a race, she took no action to clean up the mess until the ink slithered to the edge of the table and started dripping on her skirt. Alarmed, she sprung out of her seat.
"!" the teacher exclaimed, annoyed that her lesson had been disrupted. Her face grew red as laughter suddenly burst the pregnant balloon of awkward silence as she stared at the ink covered desk. She was extremely aware of the clock, ticking away the seconds, yet she was frozen in place as the foolish girl stood by her desk, her skirt stained with the ink, not bothering to do anything about the mess. In fact, she seemed to be admiring it. Anger quickly multiplied in her chest. Clenching her teeth, she forced out an order for someone to do something about the ink. No one even uses bottled ink these days, she internally screamed.
The girl finally looked up at her and grinned, her teeth soaked in darkness.