I Don't Know What to Write

January 25, 2017
By Sincerely,_Anonymous SILVER, None Of Your Business, New Jersey
Sincerely,_Anonymous SILVER, None Of Your Business, New Jersey
5 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
My favorite quote of all time is said by Dumbledore in "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows". It is,
"Of course it is happening inside your head, but why on Earth should that mean it isn't real?"

I am not a very adept writer. I can’t even think of what to write about now. I fill my pages with mindless nonsense every time my pencil touches them. I can’t give a picture-perfect description of the azure sky. I can’t write a friendly, bantering dialogue. Being a good writer is crucial in school and I just can’t seem to be able to master the art. When a paper and pencil are set in front of me and my teacher tells me to write something, I will deploy all my brains, but in the end come up with nothing. My writing would be facilitated if someone told me what to write about, but I may not like what they tell me to write about.
It’s especially difficult because my teacher is particularly fastidious when she grades my writing. As I hand in my horrid papers, I feel a pang of guilt and regret as I return to my desk in the back of the room, slowly meandering my way through the rows of others’ desks on my way.
A strong lavender scent, the smell of my teacher’s generously applied perfume, precedes my teacher as she walks to me to hand back my paper. I close my eyes, praying that maybe this time wasn’t as bad as the others, but as I open them, I see my paper stained all over with the red ink of my teacher’s pen. As I am still grappling with my latest English failure, my hook-nosed, dark-eyed teacher hands out yet another writing assignment.
I have a fitful sleep that night, dreading the next day where I’d write my next failing grade. Fast-forward to the next day, and I am sitting at my desk staring blankly at the equally blank sheet of paper in front of me. I assume all the other kids’ heads have come up with copious ideas for the assignment, because they are all scratching away furiously at their papers. My usually lightning-fast thought process has decelerated to a half-mile per hour. My capacious, empty skull hasn’t even the merest flicker of an idea, like a candle to light the cobwebby, dark emptiness that resonates with my teacher’s audible deep breathing.
So that is why I wrote this paper: because I couldn’t ,for the life of me, think of anything else.

The author's comments:

I was doing an assignment for my English class and I was completely blanking on what to write. So I wrote this to describe my feelings.

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