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DeShaun Lew Lew 1

Bosheff

A.P. LanguageDescriptive paper

March 1

Tested

I glance down at that pearly white field covered with little black specks. I am

mesmerized by its sheen subtle and glossy. My eyes seem to grow heavy. I can't

concentrate. "This is a test," I have to tell myself. Shaking my head, my mind seems to

swirl around to gather its thoughts-a twister in my mind. Eyes darting to the circular master

of time, I see that the fourty-five minutes that we are gifted with are fleeting like falcons in

the pale blue sky. I have to bring my mind back to the page atop my desk worn and tired.

"What?" I ask myself. The words appear to be in some other language. Then I realize. It

isn't another language. I just don't know anything that it is talking about. Frantically, my

whole body seems to tense up in terror. Back to the clock. Ten minutes have passed. I

return to that damned test trying to recall the information-knowing that the class had gone

over it not four days ago. Think back-hard. "Today we are going to go ove- blah blah blah."

That is what I heard from the teacher. A man of about fourty-six with a voice that drones

on and on in a hum that the entire class dreads. Snap out of it. Focus. Question two isn't

much better than question one. I can't seem to remember a single thing that is on this. What

is wrong with me? Gears smoking, cells burning, my brain dies a little at a time.

Like a madman, I frantically push my way, that meaning completely guessing,

through the test. As I slowly lift my eyes to the brick wall, I catch a fleeting glance at my

neighbor's test. I had an epiphany! Why would his test be right there for my eyes to see if

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I weren't to look at it? But then again, what if I were to be caught? I could feel my face

flushing of color and the temperature steadily rising. Before too long, everyone seemed to

be getting closer and closer to me. They were all waving their tests in the air. I wanted so

badly to look at them-even if I only got one answer. The nerve of these people. Mocking

my failure! The room gets very small. I can smell the pungently sweet aroma of the girl

next to me who apparently bathed in perfume before coming to school. The taste of blood

warm and metallic enters my mouth. It wasn't until then that I realized that I had been

gnawing on my lip like some crazy animal chewing on the leg of prey. That's just what I

am. Prey to this stupid test.

Realizing that I had a mere twenty minutes left, I had to do something. My heart, a

pounding drum, felt like it was going to explode under the pressure. I slowly crouched

forward in my seat so that I could see the paper next to me. Just as I had started to write the

stolen knowledge, I felt a burning sensation in my back. As if I were being stabbed by a

brand. The hair on my neck stood rigid as a needle. I felt the sweat beading up on my

forehead. My stomach started to flip around. I felt as if I were going to be sick. My mouth

got very dry and that is the moment that I knew it. I had attracted attention to myself. I was

to frozen by my fear to see who it was that I had distracted. I decided to nonchalantly sit

back in my seat and act as if nothing happened. Then it happened. I heard the clicking of a

pair of dress shoes against the linoleum floor. My stomach sank. Then I could smell the

cologne that I smelled every day that I entered the room. I knew that I had been caught.

Even still, I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Then there was a hand on my

shoulder. I finally turned around. He was smiling at me. I felt very uncomfortable with the

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situation and I was also very confused.

"Are you doing okay on your test so far?" He asked kindly. I managed to say that I

was and he went on to check on the others. How had he not noticed my blatent cheating?

Unless he really had and was waiting for me to turn myself in. The demon of guilt began to

rear its ugly head at me. I couldn't take it much longer. This feeling of utter disgust with

myself made it physically impossible to be able to finish the test with a clear head. This

was his plan all along. I am sure of it. He saw my peeking at that paper and knew that he

would have to punish me. He chose to let my guilt consume me until I confessed. How

meniacal of an idea. I would not succumb to this siren of wit. He would never get a

confession from me over my dead body. I looked out the window and saw the birds flying-

riding the current of air. Free and careless, they never have to worry about anything. They

taunt me. They soar past this thick sheet of glass parading the fact that they don't have to

worry about tests or guilt. I heard them laughing to each other as they passed by with their

peers. This is it. I can't take it anymore. The birds, the classmates, the evil teacher, this test,

all of these things are working against me, pushing my brain-crushing it into a microscopic

piece of nothing.

I stood up and looked at the teacher. He seemed to be confused but I knew that it

was just a joke for him. He was chuckling darkly inside. I spilled everything. The fact that I

cheated and that he didn't have to torture me any longer. Everyone was laughing at me. The

birds all flew into the room and swirled around me, a tornado of feathers, and pecked at me

and laughed when I began to bleed. I felt the wetness pushing it's way out. Running down

my arms and legs, a stream warm and sticky. My body jerks as if it were hit by a

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car. I look up and see my teacher standing over me. "You fell asleep and you have only

been in here for five minutes. Try to get some sleep tonight. I don't want to see you falling

asleep in my class again." Oh no. What is this? I sit in awe and then look down at my paper

not sure of what it says.

Shaking my head, my mind seems to swirl around to gather its thoughts-a twister in

my mind. Eyes darting to the circular master of time, I see that the fourty-five minutes that

we are gifted with are fleeting like falcons in the pale blue sky.