Writer's Digest Submission #1

As promised, here is my Writer's Digest competition piece.  I eventually decided to write a young adult story, kind of mixing everything I had thought about writing before.  Last night I decided that I am going to do a 2ND piece of writing for this competition.  The regular deadline of May 15th should be able to hit (as opposed to the early bird deadline that is today). That second piece of writing won't be a short story, but a personal essay, and I will post it here as well when I am finished with it, as well.  Until then, enjoy this one and let me know your thoughts!

Understanding Life

One Day at a Time!

     I think I had an epiphany today, or a meltdown, but I'm pretty sure it was an epiphany. I was sitting in my ACT prep class and it was 3:17 in the afternoon when it hit me. I remember the time because being at school after school was over pushed me over the edge and made me lose my shit on the instructor. In hindsight it was probably a bit ill-advised.

       We're under all this pressure; pressure to get straight A's, to go to college, to get a scholarship, to get a respectable job, to blah blah freakin' blah. I don't really see the point. I know what I want to do with my life, hell I'm doing what I want to do with my life. I got thinking about it so much that I finally asked myself a question we all pose to ourselves at some point or another.

     “What the hell am I doing here?”

     I may or may not have let that slip (audibly, I'll admit it) during the study session and the Grinch that they provided as an instructor settled his steely gaze on me like I had just stolen his youngest child.

     “Mr. Cooper, I will not tolerate outbursts that detract from my lecture. This course is here for the purpose of helping students achieve the goals they have set for themselves.”

      Now, at this point I should have taken a deep breath, nodded and looked down to make my defeat known.     

      Instead, I took the road less traveled.

     “Alright dude, first off, I'm already making more money than you do,” I said, getting out of my seat. “Now, I'm guessing on that one, but you can't make more than six or seven bucks a week right? Not to mention the fact that I know I am on the right path. I run a blog that is read by fifteen thousand people a day. Yep, that's right, fifteen thousand. Every, single, day. Ad space sells for a thousand bucks a piece, gramps.”

      Mr. Burthram looked like he was ready to blow a gasket and when he finally managed to get a few words out they weren't very nice, “Erik, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Just because you think you have the whole world figured out and you plan to blog about your 'experience', doesn't mean you can slack off at this critical time. Do you understand nothing? You have already taken the ACT's once, young man, and if this try is not successful you won't be accepted to any major university. Don't be a moron, Erik, you know that whatever gravy train you are currently riding will not last forever and when the money stops and you have no clever words left to impart to your readers, they will leave you alone and penniless.”

      Taking a seat on the edge of a table near Burthram I let out a sigh to let my feelings be known, “Oh, Walter—may I call you Walter? Why do all you teachers act like you know everything about the kids you teach? If I came back here a year after I graduate, which I don't plan on doing so don't worry, you wouldn't remember me. In fact, I bet not a single teacher here remembers more than a handful of their past students. It's sad, but the fact of the matter is that you guys don't give a shit about what happens to us after we leave your little bubble called high school.”

      Walter Burthram kept his features calm and simply said, “Erik, get out. Walk yourself down to the main office and tell the secretary what you did and why you deserve punishment.”

      I nodded like I fully understood and stood up, “Will do, Walt. I'll mention how you failed to teach me anything worth learning during my entire high school experience while I'm at it, too.”

     With those words, I left the room without a backward glance

     I spotted Emily sitting on a bench outside the building, chatting with her friend Jessica. Sneaking up behind her, I covered her eyes gently with my palms.

“Erik!” She half yelled with her eyes still covered. “How did it go?”

      Swinging my legs over the back of the bench to take a seat and smiling at Jessica, I settled in for the argument. She wasn't going to like my answer, but what was I supposed to do, lie to my girlfriend? “Yes!” a voice in my head screamed, but I knew it wouldn't work. With a sigh, I succumbed to my fate.

     I put my arm around her and said lightly, “Well, I may or may not be going to school here anymore.”

Emily's face was a picture of confusion and irritation, “That doesn't tell me anything because you always tease me by not divulging the full story until I'm ready to pull my hair out.”

     A small laugh escaped my lips before I could stop myself, “Fair enough. The principal booted me outta' here for what I said to Walter—I mean Mr. Burthram. Just for a week, though.”

     She abruptly stood up and settled her glare on me. I knew I was in trouble. To make matters worse, Jessica got up hurriedly and left without a word.

She can't be that pissed, it's not like I'm going to move to South America or something, I'll still be here, I thought optimistically. Deep down; however, I knew she would be more than a bit irked.

     Emily came from a well-to-do family that didn't handle failure, scandal or legal issues very well, which I always found ironic because they seemed to constantly be involved with one of those. I came from an equally troubled home, minus the money, of course. Emily's father, a total asshole named Rob (although he only answers me when I call him 'sir', which I never do) hates me. He hates my tattoos, he hates my earrings, he hates my attitude....I think he hates all individualism in general.

     “Honestly, Erik, my parents are never going to let me see you again,” Emily almost whispered with tears in her eyes.

     I tried to think of something to say that would comfort her, that would comfort myself, but the words wouldn't come out. It was like somebody had their hand over my mouth and wouldn't let me say what I was feeling. Instead, I wrapped her in a hug and held her head to my chest.

      From below my chin I heard a muffled voice, “Hearing your heartbeat always calms me down, hun.”

      A smile crept onto my face as I said, “That was kinda' my plan.”

      Holding me at arms' length, Emily looked up at me with her big blue eyes, “What are you going to do, Erik? And before you say another word, until you fix this, you're grounded, too.”

      That made me wince, “I'm on it, chief.”

      I spent the rest of my day, after I had kissed Emily goodbye until God-knows-when, thinking about the choices that I had in front of me. I had spent my whole life fighting the way most people live, feeling lost in the shuffle of modern day society with its vanity and isolation. I say isolation because even though we are constantly surrounding ourselves with other people, whether it be through the internet or actual physical contact, emotional contact has grown increasingly rare.

      What is my generation supposed to do? How are we supposed to find our place in this world when we are constantly being pulled in ten (or twenty for fuck's sake!) different directions by our parents, teachers, friends, and employers. We are being told that the careers of today won't be there tomorrow and that the careers of tomorrow aren't invented yet....so what the hell does that mean? Using that brilliant logic, how are we supposed to plan for our future when no one will tell us anything worth hearing?

      I wrestled with all these questions until the sun set over the trees and I was left alone, still sitting on that same bench outside of my high school. I only had a few months left in that building before they would kick me out and I would be forced to deal with all of those questions for myself, with no one to help me.

     It scared the absolute shit out of me.

     As if timed by fate, Principal McMulilan walked out the front doors of the prison society calls high school and started towards her car.

     “Dr. McMulilan, a quick word?” I called to her as I jogged up to her Passat.

     If I hadn't been watching closely I would have missed her wrinkles tighten slightly at the sight of me. Not a good sign.

     “Yes, Erik,” McMulilan replied evenly. “What can I do for you?”

     I pulled up short of her and, despite my best efforts, began with an awkward shuffle and head scratch, “I was hoping that even though I am suspended I could....maybe...y'know...sit in on the ACT prep class?”

I thought her eyebrows were going to keep climbing, right off her head, “I must say, Mr. Cooper, I am exceedingly surprised with you. This time it is a pleasant surprise, which I would like to experience more often.”

      A bit less than three months later, we graduated. Like it or not, we were finished and another class would take our place in the ranks of not-so-eager young minds waiting to be filled with information they would undoubtedly deem bullshit. Looking back, I can smile on the day that I walked back into that ACT prep room and took a seat near the front of the room (I still couldn't sit in the front...I just couldn't).

This will be the last blog post that I will ever write, but if you are looking for a little more perspective into the mind of the American teen, take a walk through my old high school, past the cafeteria, up the stairs, to the hall where seniors scrawl their quotes on the tile wall. If you look really closely near the top left hand corner of the mural, in chicken scratch that is barely legible, you can see what I had to say about the time I spent in that shit box.

     It reads: “Cherish each moment---it goes too fast and never returns.”