Posts
Challenges
Portals
Authors
Books
beta
Sign Up
Challenge
A Challenge of Inspiration III
Use the phrases below in a unique story or poem which begs a rejoinder of some kind from other Prosers. (Credit: Dr;) Responses need not be entered directly into the challenge--feel free to compose your response as a regular post, then put a link to it in the comments of the original piece so we can all find it. One winning original entry and one winning response entry will be blessed with a life-changing $10 prize! Breathe. Just breathe. ______________Here are your challenge phrases: _______________ Feeding frenzy, really pisses me off, juggernaut, various insecurities, popular fallacies, trapping perfection, run red, nothing good can come of this, created from the depths, this damned chair, between time and tears. ____Bon chance, mes amis!
Profile avatar image for 0la_8
0la_8
67 reads

Algebra 2

The '57 Chevy haunted me. It showed up in my dreams. It was my first conscious thought I'd have in the morning after waking up. It would be a doodle in my math notebook. It wasn't a thought anymore but a plague to my mind. Nothing special about it could be seen with the eyes alone. Yet there was some mysterious quality that became a feeding frenzy in my mind.

I had let my thoughts wander in and out about the car as I copied the equations on the board. The routine of my Algebra 2 class was not interrupted by these thoughts. Honors courses regularly aren’t. You keep up along with the others, or you miss everything important. Before I could begin to solve one, I felt myself skid forward, smudging my pen ink on the paper with my hand. Repositioning my chair, I kept writing.

About halfway through, I skidded forward again. Shaking my head, I shifted the chair back. Nothing good can come of this, I thought, but said nothing. It could have been an accident, or I did it on my own. I let my mind indulge in the math problems again.

I barely got my answer on the paper when I felt myself skidding forward again. My ribs were thrown into the desk. The pain made my mind run red.

"Hey!" Spinning around, I felt my anger flow into hatred.

"What?" Finn Sable looked at me with disregard.

"What? What!? You need to stop kicking me! That's 'what'," I snapped. Mentally, I kicked myself. Of course, it would have been him. His habit of not sitting in chairs correctly to kick people in front of him and blaming it on him being tall was only about as much of a juggernaut as his insufferable ego. An attitude created from the depths of unbearable places where the only people unbothered by it were his inner circle of friends. My blood boiled to the temperature of the equator.

"Just sit in the chair normally and stop kicking me. It's really annoying," I continued through clenched teeth and my remaining composure. Turning around, I finished my work, waiting for the minute I could leave this damned chair. Sharp breaths entered and exited my mouth as I tried to keep myself from making a scene. He wouldn't listen anyway. It really pisses me off when people do that— not stopping something that clearly bothers people and making excuses for it, I mean. "I'm tall," "It's not a big deal," "You're being dramatic." Only popular fallacies to avoid owning up to your mistakes. Between time and tears, I've learned that they can't change. They won't change. All they want is their own satisfaction and will use you to get it. Anger, hurt, various insecurities, all to feel superior over another person. They'd use everything to make you start trapping perfection to every aspect of your life. Then, they'd just leave you in the dust, festering in your grief.

A sharp dinging entered my ears. The bell! My savior! I'm free at last! Scooping my things together I made my way out of class. Relief swept away my anger as I lightly sprinted down the stairs to gym class.

I had a lot to tell the others.

6
3
13