By: Jody Chu

The class dropped into silence as still as the night
Occasional whispers
Like crickets in a forest
The constant grinding of pencil against paper
I sit there blank, bland, and empty of ideas
Thinking, looking around – all are sitting and writing
But nothing comes up

Tick, tock, tick, tock
Goes the clock
Until the teacher stands up
Panic is summoned
Words are scribed terribly quickly
The horrible sounds of the squeaking pencil
Screaming sounds, as it slides across the paper
“Times up”
The sound of the dropped pencil vibrates through my mind
Instilling a feeling of calmness