That damn pencil.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
I sat in the class room.
Thick stench of deodorant hung heavy in the air.
A small paper ball hit the back of my head.

Its some thing I thought up whilst in my english class, not my best admitidly, but its a little bit funny, so thats a first.

Submitted: January 15, 2008

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Submitted: January 15, 2008



I sat in the class room.
Thick stench of deodorant hung heavy in the air.  
A small paper ball hit the back of my head.
I could pick up my name being mentioned over and over again as my Fellow Students debated my personal life and commented my dress sense.
To my left a Nice Enough Girl whose name escapes me and I never speak to concentrated on her work. To the right, Nathanial,  the single most repulsive person in terms of personality I have ever had the misfortune to meet. He was about as intelligent as a brick, with a vocabulary to match. Always ready to dish out the insults and judgmental comments and yet quickly forgot his own faults like his dull personality and, not to be shallow but, his close resemblance to a short, fat, frog.
Teacher at the front droned on about something I couldn’t concentrate on due to the incessant mumblings of Nathanial and His Friend (whose name I nether know nor care about).  I blocked out Teacher, at first focusing on their conversation but finding it only consisted of “You should just pump her” (a grotesque slang word for copulate with) football (or soccer for you Americans)  and “I would well kick the shit out of him” I quickly tuned out in fear of extreme boredom.  
Teacher finally noticed the conversation, if that’s how it should be known, and commanded it stop. Which brought me out of my daydreaming and back to the cursed board with undecipherable scrawling now covering every inch.
 For a good five minutes I gave my full self to the black board and fully soaked up the information. NABs, tests, exams, essays, homework, deadlines, tapping, tapping, the tapping of Nathaniel’s pen on the desk, study or bad qualifications, live on benefits, that damn pen rap-tap-tapping, pressure, tap, future, tap., “STOP BANGING THAT FUCKING PEN!”  
Every one in the room looked at me. Teacher stuttered a second lost for words it would seem.
“Shut it you stupid emo,” His Friend laughed. The whole class fell into uproar. The laughing, oh that laughter.
Thirty smiling clowns with over worked and audibly fake laugher which rang clear through my ears, claning like near by bells loud and brass.  And all the while that god-dammed pencil, bounced on the table in a slow steady rhythm almost following the beat of the merciless laughter.  
Teacher struggled to regain control, quelling the screeching rabble. Yet still that pencil bounced on.
I turned very slowly. I reached out and grabbed Nathaniel’s hair, short and greasy though it was, and forcefully pushed his head down on the table. He tried to pull his head back up but I slammed it back down, and repeated this, slam, slam, slam. Almost rhythmical. He screamed every time I pulled his head back to slam it down again. Slam, scream, slam, scream. I had done it for what must have been the tenth time before any one spoke or moved. It was at this time. Slam, scream, “Stop it!”, slam, scream, “You’ll kill him!”, I never slowed my pace nor answered the terrified calls of my class mates. A beautiful crunch  rang out and his screams became gurgled under blood.  By the time any one thought it fit to pull me back blood dripped all over my face and Nathanial lay slumped, still and lifeless on his desk. Whilst being dragged back His Friend pulled him up and I that, ironically, some how that fucking pencil had become lodged in his eye socket, strange liquid mixed with blood poured out of it.

Then I don’t really know what happened next. Cameras flashed, flashed, flashed on my court date.
My Defence Lawyer said it was like all those school years, filled with exclusion, judgments, taunts and sly punches and shoves from cruel peers noticed but left ongoing by lacklustre pupil support staff had come to a head.

But not really. It was just that god damn pencil.

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