Monday Mornings in Calculus

A crackling fills the air—a muffled message tumbles into my ear. Looking around, we all stand in nervous trepidation. Time freezes for a moment. What will the day bring? Pain, beauty, horror? I brush my hair behind my shoulders, bracing myself for the imminent blow. It doesn’t come. I glance questioningly behind me at my friend. He shrugs nearly imperceptibly—tilts his head to the side casually. But I see his left hand twitching—clenching, unclenching—as it dangles next to his hip. I look at my other friend—an expectant grimace is on his face. Fear floods my body. I want to run, but I wait—paralyzed, my feet glued to the floor. A crackling fills the air—a voice tumbles into my ear. The national anthem has begun.

A/N: I wrote this for Creative Writing. It’s all true. My friends and I are big music buffs and in choir, and so when we hear people who can’t sing as well as they think they can—well, it hurts. Please review and thanks!