Writer's Block

The blank page taunts me. The blinking line on the screen grows impatient. It’s almost as if it’s saying “Have you thought of anything to write yet? How about now? Now?”

My brain has nearly stopped working. I have to write something, I think to myself. It’s only the middle of the story. I know what is going to happen at the end, but what happens next? Who’s even going to read this? Why would anybody be interested in the ramblings of a kid?

I shut my laptop, and flip my notebook closed. Maybe I’ll run out to the highway to get the mail. Nature is inspiring, right? There has to be a piece of the story floating out there somewhere. I leave and then come back. I open up the word processor, and un-cap my good pen. Nothing has changed except for the time in the corner of the screen.

Then I just start typing the first thought that pops into my head. It doesn’t have to be about the main character. I just need to type something. I don’t even look at the screen as my fingers dance on the keys. Pretty soon, I can’t think of anything anymore. I look back at the monitor, and look back at the monitor, and think about what I just wrote. All I did was curse myself out in writing.

I slam the computer shut, and stomp my way out the door and out to the train tracks.

“Think.” I order myself. I hear the train coming.

“Think” I tell myself again. The train isn’t slowing down.

“Come on, think. Think!” I repeat the words to myself. The train is speeding up.

“THINK!” I can see the conductor now, but he can’t see me. I close my eyes.

“THINK! THINK! THINK! THINK!”

I open my eyes, and look up at my Biology teacher, then back at my blank writing notebook.

“Got it.”