Assignment 2

So here is my second assignment that I am posting. For this assignment I just have to revise the beginning of my first short story from my advanced fiction class. I'm going post the orginal so you all (as in all of the no one who reads my writing blog) can see that as well.

Assignment 2:

William Curb

At a Funeral I'd rather be in the Coffin

     Anger. No, not anger, just frustration. That's what it was. Uncontrolled. It owned me. It flowed through my veins. Choked my voice.
Forced to try again. The words do not come. Letters stare back at me as if they should mean something. I can only look blankly at them hoping that they will share an unknown secrets this time. That this time I will be able to conjure their meaning. Nothing. Why won't they speak to me. They speak to everyone else.
     In front of everyone. Why would she put me here. She knows I can't do it. I told her I can't do it. I need to escape. I need to get out from their eyes. Judging me. They think they are better then I am. She is exposing my weakness to all of them. Why. God, I just want to get out. Anything to get out. Breathing heavy. I don't know what to do. I.
     The vomit shoots from my mouth and covers the teacher's desk. No one moves. They all just stare. I can't move I just let the rest of the bile drip from my mouth. I can't move. The teacher rushes over to me and leads me out of the class. Then I hear the laughter. It is all a joke to them. I wish I could be with them. Laughing.



At a Funeral I'd rather be in the Coffin

     In front of everyone. The words did not come. The letters stared back at me. I look for their meaning. Hoping. Wishing that they will share their unknown secret. That this time I will be able to see their hidden meaning. Nothing. Why won't they speak to me? They speak to everyone else.
     Why would she put me here? She knows I can't do it. I told her I can't do it. I need to escape. I need to get out from their eyes. Judging me. They think they are better then me. She is exposing my weakness to all of them. Why? God, I just want to get out. Anything to get out. I don't know what to do. I.
     The vomit shoots from my mouth. It covers the teacher's desk. No one moves. They all just stare. I can't move. I just let the rest of the bile drip from my mouth. I can't move. No one moves. The teacher rushes over to me. Leads me out of the class. I hear the laughter. It is all a joke to them. I wish I could be with them. Laughing.

Copyright 2007 William Curb