Death by Boredom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was composed when I was sitting in Keyboarding class in high-school, bored completely out of my mind. I...typed this up on the computer while in class (while supposed to be doing something else...like listening to the teacher drone), and well, this is the result. Of course, I edited later, but that's beside the point! heh Fitting title if ever there was one, no?

Submitted: June 28, 2008

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Submitted: June 28, 2008

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I was sitting in class bored completely out of my mind, the oppressive classroom atmosphere akin to the sweltering sun that baked the bald heads of the old men standing outside waiting to get on the city bus. Boredom is an unjustified form of torture that no creature, be it human or animal, should have to go through. The mind requires exercise, a preoccupation, much like the body, and once it goes without said stimulation, or is encumbered by routine and predictability or things are 'too easy' or dull, well, things start to happen. Hells are created. And you start going down, sinking into fathomless depths.

I had begun to twiddle my thumbs, minute circles woven and traced with those imitation-digits. I looked and looked outside hoping there'd be something (or someone) of interest, only to find the empty, bottomless, slate-gray sky out there, an infinite canvas of barrenness. There was not a bird seen wheeling in the air, or even a passing plane to fill the space, or even a cloud. No, all was funereal and quiet (except for the constant droning of the teacher that ultimately was tuned out). Yes, all was sepulchral, and stony. It was the stuff of small cottages tucked away in the recesses of some forest, in the country, except it's not so quaint, or cozy. It wasn't a home to be made a home. It was the city! -- where it's supposed to be busy all the time, maintain that hustle-and-bustle 24/7. Unrealistic expectations, I know, but I was grasping for straws.

Mm, but such is life, people left to fend for themselves, bear through their own miseries. I closed my eyes, only to disappear into a world entirely of my own whimsy, only to find that same empty, bottomless, slate-grayness. The boredom seemed not only to exist on that plane, but had seeped into the imagination, crept into my mind and took over, stretching out like Forever, like Space. I opened my eyes, trying to escape it, only to stare at the cold screen of the computer, hearing a constant buzz in my ear. Still in class. Still bored. My eyes shot to the clock, and what I found there frightened me even more than my current crisis: I still had a whole hour to go before class was over. Then, it started happening. It started raining; yes, raining...the deluge of boredom unceasing in its descent, only to fill up the space around me, sliding over my feet, drifting up to my ankles. Soon, I found myself swimming in it. And then I drowned....


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