Forty-Seven Minutes

January 21, 2011
By CheyanneBoyer BRONZE, Vancouver, Washington
CheyanneBoyer BRONZE, Vancouver, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I sit in silence, waiting for the bell to ring. Counting down the minutes, though I have forty-seven to go. Forty-seven minutes of trying to watch the clock and not the guy next to me picking his nose. Forty-seven minutes for me to figure out what I’m going to say to my mom when I get home. Forty-seven minutes of the annoying tick, tick sound the clock makes, because that’s the only sound I can hear besides the continuous thoughts running a mile a minute in my head. I got distracted by my teacher inspecting his turkey sandwich he left in his drawer from Monday, so a couple minutes went by. I thought to myself, “this isn’t going to take that long.” But in reality I knew it was going to take forever.

I wasted three minutes and now I have forty-four minutes left of the dreadful class. Forty-four minutes to find something else to distract me, so just maybe the time in this hushed class can go by faster. Still forty-four minutes to go, and I feel like I want to run a marathon. Which is strange for me considering I hate running. In fact I hate it so much I walk the mile in thirteen minutes cause I despite running. Now having forty-three minutes I study the people around me. I study the way they study others. I study the way look when they concentrate. Some people make themselves look stupid when they concentrate, just that dumb look people give off when they don’t know what to do. And other people just look weird when they concentrate. As if all the wrinkles on their forehead scrunch up next to one another. As I find myself staring at people a little to long, I look at the clock.

Three minutes have past as I was staring at the wrinkles on the others peoples face, especially our teacher. He was the weirdest person I have ever laid my eyes on. He was an average nerd in high school I guessed. The plaid shirts tucked into his “high waters” he called pants. And the huge glasses that could let you see even the smallest planet. I got to say, he hasn’t changed much at all.

Now with thirty-eight minutes having to sit in the dead silence of this smelly class, I have no choice but to sit and wonder why the class smells so bad. So I look to the left of me and it wouldn’t be the head cheerleader, cause she is “perfect”. So when I look to the right of me I see an awkward kid who can be the problem to the strange smell. I lean a little closer to smell, but to my surprise, it wasn’t him. Then I just gave up the search for the foul odor. But when I looked at the teachers cluttered deck in front of me I see that turkey sandwich my teacher was still inspecting, and he had that same face of concentration. Not the face of stupidity, but the face of many wrinkles.

So now five reeking minutes in the classroom have passed, I only have thirty-three minutes. Now, sense I solved the search from that soiled smell, I do not know what can possibly distract me. I would rather not look at the kid who sits next to me who has the same problem as I do, cant find a good distraction. But his solution for that is picking his nose. I would choose not to go down the “gold digging” path. So when I have no other option, I stare at the ticking clock who mocks me and the thirty-one who ticks along with it.

But after only a minute, I could not stand it any longer I had to find something else for distraction or the ticking would drive me out of my sanity. The only sanity I have left after spending ten minutes in the class that no one warned me about in the beginning of the year. I thought it would just be an easy “A”. But I guess an “A” comes with some strings attached, which comes with the constant ticking of a clock that I am pretty sure is broken and does not know how to tell time, the nose picker that has to sit next to me, and the dumb teacher who likes moldy turkey sandwiches from the Monday before. And if I would have knew this easy “A” of a class came with this many gross and annoying strings attached I don’t think I would have singed up for this class. I am astonished I actually lived to tell the tale of this class.
But knowing I have twenty-seven minutes of this “strings attached” class made me feel a little better. So as I am gazing about the room, I hear a buzzing of a bug, flying past my ear as if it wanted me to notice it. I follow the path it gave me as it flew around the room and ended up on the turkey sandwich my teacher still has not thrown away. I sit and wonder why its always flies that that are attracted to such a stench. They find a bad smell and immediately tracks it down. Its like us humans are attracted to the new Calvin Klein perfume. Well I guess I understand what the flies were so fascinated with. Not that I would ever be engrossed in something so nauseating.

Now with twenty-four minutes on the clock I question what the other students want to do in their future. I think the nerd who constantly has his finger up his nose will make good money, but he wont be rich or famous like most people with money. Like you always see in the movies. He is going to be closed about his money and how he wants to control it. And the cheerleader to my left, yes miss, “perfect”, she is going nowhere in life. And she realized this when she figured out that she has spent too much time worrying about her cheers then what she really wanted to be in life, an Veterinarian. That’s probably why she had a mental breakdown in the middle of English last Thursday when we were talking about our big project and how they will effect us in the future. But little did she know she was going to marry, out of desperate need of course, the “nerd” with his finger up his nose. I have never seen anything like it when they are together. They are total opposites but I guess that’s because our role models for love include a seventy year old man with a twenty-six year old woman. When this trend first happened it was strange, but then it became the norm, which was even more odd to me.

In the midst of all this thought I glanced up at the clock, there it was, eight-teen more minute. But then I could not get my mind off the fact that I still have to talk to my mom when I get home. Still not knowing if it was good new or bad news, I thought of the worst possible thing that could happen, and the best possible thing. But as always the first was the worst thing. I thought maybe she would faint, or maybe me, or the both of us for that matter. But then the best possible thing that could happen, and there were too many. But I didn’t want give my hopes up. So I tried to divert my thinking in a different direction. However I could not, I just kept pondering about what am I going to say, how am I going to say it, who is going to be the first person I tell of this news after I tell my mom. It was just all so baffling. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t think I could take this class any longer, I felt like I wanted to scream. Just scream, not at the fact that I was mad because I wasn’t, not because I was scared, or the fact the worst could happen, it was just the simple fact that I felt like I was loosing my sanity and everything that comes with it.

So with ten minutes on the clock, the last double digit number there was in order to leave this class, I took a deep breath. And as unusual as it was I felt better. That never happens to me, I normally stay crazy after a take a deep breath. I would usually just take a deep breath to show I tried to be calm. But it is what it is I guess. As I crinkled my nose to the smell of that stench again, I noticed how my heart was pounding to the same beat as the clock. Rather than it getting faster, it just got louder but still pounded like it was a drum with a steady beat. This has never happened before neither. What was happening? Was I going to past out or something? I thought to myself, “wow, that would be really embarrassing to pass out in the middle of class.” But for some reason I knew wouldn’t.

I only had seven minutes left, I felt lucky, just because it was my favorite number. That was a good confidence booster, showing that everything is going to go great. Though it was hard to concentrate on it considering I couldn’t even hear myself think because of tick tock sound the clock was making. I started to get irritated as it would never stop un till I heard the ding ding sound of the bell reminding us, “this is our last day.”

Our last times of high school is in four minutes. By this time everyone was looking at the clock leaning forward as if the just saw the elephant-man for the first time. But this time it wasn’t the face of stupidity, it was the face of never having to do high school ever again. It wasn’t that we hated high school, it was the fact that we all had our own memories and our own life in and out of high school. We were not rushing to leave all these memories behind, we were just hastening for the fact we have amazing memories to look back on and cherish. This moment was ours to have, this was going to be the beginning of something new in our big life ahead of us. But as I am thinking of high school and its reminiscences it comes with, the bell startled me. It went off with no warning. But to our surprise, no one got up. All of us thinking of our past and how its going to shape our future for us, and all we have to do is sit back and let it all happen the way it is suppose to. This was our moment to remember for eternity.

The author's comments:
I have a hard time cocentrating in class and this was just one day sitting in my class for forty-seven minutes.

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