Currently, I am zipped up in a dark room, surrounded by others. All of us are waiting for the moment when the girl opens up the pocket and chooses one of us. I've been picked the most, because of my handy eraser and never ending supply of lead. However, my friend Pen is sometimes picked when the girl gets too lazy to hunt for me. Light shines in on me when the zip is undone. I am picked up and dropped onto a table. Here we go, I think. She picks me up and puts me up against the paper. The race begins. I am running as fast as her hand can write, moving across the page, line after line as she tries to keep up with her physics notes. I'm so tired but there is no time for rest; she has to have ALL the notes. I run over the whole page until I'm out of room. Gosh, that was a lot. Wait... what is she doing? No! There's a back to the page? Oh god. I begin to run again, faster then ever. When she's finished writing, the girl drops me again. I am about to die. I can't breathe. That was exhausting. I hate school. I am put back into the bag, until I am needed next time.
I'd better rest up.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.