by Luckie 🍀
Thinking can be dangerous...
|I sat at my desk, writing vigorously. We only had one hour to take the test, which was a written exam. The prompt given was to explain the scientific reasons why we shouldn’t use drugs and alcohol in our teenage youth. A few people scoffed and snickered when the teacher announced the subject. Obviously, the users.
Among those who scoffed, was Eddie. When I heard his voice sneer at the announcement of the topic, I glared over at him. The biggest smirk was on his face, making him look like an idiot, which everyone knew he truly was.
Writing until my hand finally cramped, I peeked over at Eddie, again. He was writing, but it looked to be very loose, as if he was writing as little as possible.
With 15 minutes to spare, the teacher had excused herself from the class, (probably a drinking emergency, how ironic that would be), so I looked over at Eddie again. Now, he was staring into space.
I whispered, “Eddie, what are you doing?”
“Thinking,” he replied pompously.
Someone said, “Don’t hurt yourself!”
The class laughed.
Seconds later, the teacher came back to the room, and it was silent again.
The test came to a conclusion, and I passed mine forward. Once more, I looked at Eddie, he was still staring. I snapped my fingers and waved my hand in front of his face. No response. Then, he fell out of his chair and onto the floor, dead. Stiffened, as if he was still sitting, pencil in hand.
Horrified, I looked down at his paper. He had written,
“See shell. She shell. Sea sells. She shells shirt. Sea sells shirt. Sea shells shirt sells at the sheet store.”
At the bottom it said,
“Stupid brain! If I only had a drink.”