A Terror of its Own Class

I pause my animated monologue abruptly and sit up straight with wide eyes, mind clouded with a sudden panic. All thoughts and distractions vanish in a wisp of smoke as I focus intensely on a distant voice. My throat feels dry. I cough and draw in a shaky breath. 

It is coming.

The world seems to evaporate until all that remains is The Voice, the room and my pounding heart. What if I miss it? What if nobody hears me? My breath hitches. The consequences will be dire. My reputation will suffer. 

I must be prepared. 

I clench my fists and frown in concentration. 

I only get one shot at this. I cannot afford to be wavered. 

Silencing my companions as the moment draws closer, I embrace myself. This is it.


“Rahul.” “-yes, sir!”

“Rajs-” “PRESENT, sir.”

My voice rings out loudly over the class and a few perplexed faces turn to look at me. Too loud.

But It’s over. I did it.


I smile sheepishly until the raised eyebrows smoothen. A little overreaction  is excusable. Even if it’s not, I don’t care anymore. 

I slump my tense shoulders into a comfortable slouch, plunging right back into my daydreams.

Attendance in combined classes is horrifying, you guys. 


2 thoughts on “A Terror of its Own Class

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s