Another story, borderline horror but primarily a dark dramatic piece. Enjoy.
COUNTING TILES
By Michael Kras
“So, if x+y= 28, and x=12, what does y equal?”
The teacher awaits her answer. There is a moment of pure silence… you could damn near hear a pin drop. I tap my pockets to look for a pin.
Suddenly, another noise appears, almost from nowhere. Funny how one can only notice things like this after a few moments of concentration. The sound is very faint, but very familiar.
Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick... Tick… Tick…
There’s a ray of hope for as long as it takes to go from tick to tick… is this the end? Will this be our redemption? Then the realization… no, it’s just the ****ing clock. No “Tick… Tick… BOOM”, just a ****ing “Tick… Tick… Tick…”
“Y=16, very good! Now, what if the answer had been 47?...”
I zone out… what’s the ****ing point? When is this algebra **** ever going to come up in my life? I decide to just sit and carve my name into the desk… mark my territory. I almost turn to smirk at my friends… but another realization… I have none. What is wrong with me today? Why can’t I think straight? It’s got to be the ****ing ticking of the clock.
This is my math classroom… it’s small, and we’ve only got about 10 students including me. The room has a water-stained ceiling that was probably white at one time and about 30 desks, each one damn near falling apart. Mine has a wobble that annoys me to the Nth degree… wait, what is N? Maybe I will need algebra, at some point. I turn back to the lesson.
“… and that’s how you solve for an unknown. Remember, if you have two unknown variables, x+y=… will be your final answer, you can’t take it any further. Alright, any test sign-ups?”
****, right when I tune in too. The rest of the class is for silent work… great, another 45 minutes of sitting and doing nothing. I glance around the room, looking at all of the floor tiles for a moment. There are 316 there, I know that for sure. I’ve counted and recounted them at least a dozen times… but wait. Something catches my eye…the only bright colourful thing in this disgustingly dingy room. It’s a poster… one of those lame motivational posters they put above chalkboards to shout “You Can Do It!” in futile attempts to drive the average student to success. Who are they kidding?
This one got me thinking, though… At the top, in bold lettering (each letter a different colour, how cute), is the title: “GET ORGANIZED!” and a brightly-coloured sun just above. There’s a list, numbered One to Five, below:
1. Plan ahead.
2. Make a to-do list
3. Schedule your due-date
4. Stick to your commitment
5. Reward yourself with some free time
Ah, what the hell. I pull out my journal and write each point on the list down as if I actually plan to use this “indispensible knowledge”. I tear the sheet out, ball it up, and toss it in my jacket pocket. Whatever. Suddenly I hear another noise, much more distinct (not to mention unmistakeable)…FINALLY, the bell, I can get out of here. I think I’ll just skip Period Two, I always get kicked out anyways.
“Hello??”
I yell into my house as I enter the doorway. No response, of course. Both parents are still at work. I suddenly need to use the bathroom so I dash down the hall. FLUSH, I wash my hands… but something catches my eye. On the sink counter, right next to the toothbrush holder… a bottle of toilet cleaner. This could be the best idea I’ve ever had, not to mention my last.
I carefully unscrew the lid. This is scary… I should feel nervous, reluctant, but I don’t… I don’t feel any ****ing different. I guess I know this is what I have to do. Goddamn it. I bring the bottle up to my lips, and cough. The smell of this stuff, so potent and so sudden, catches me off guard… but I’ll continue. I press the bottle to my lips and slowly tilt it. I almost don’t want to do it, but at the same time I don’t feel like stopping myself… all the more reason to keep going.
Damn, this stuff is thick, I feel it run down the side of the bottle and hit my lips. I haven’t opened my mouth, not just yet. “Come ON, just DO IT”. I open up.
****. Why do I have to be such a frightened little pansy? I spit the thick blue stuff into the sink and immediately rinse my mouth with water a few times. This isn’t going to work… it can’t be done this way. If I’m going to off myself, I have to plan it out, make sure I’m ready. Drinking Lysol products at the spur of the moment isn’t going to cut it. I’ve got to get a plan. I’ve got to… Get Organized.
I rummage through my jacket pocket. Keys, lint… wad of paper. I pull the paper out, unfold it. Damn, my writing is a bit smudged… but I can still read it.
1. Plan Ahead.
I grab my notebook… it’s time to brainstorm. I tried the poison thing already, that didn’t work out. Hanging? No, too cliché. Shoot or stab myself? No, too much room to back out. This is harder than I thought it would be. Drug overdose? No, too risky, I might live through it.
Finally, it hits me. Just jump. Find a cliff or building or something and just ****ing jump. So simplistic, and oddly beautiful, I can just imagine those final moments, soaring through the sky. It would be pure exhilaration, then BAM, instant liberation. Just the thought excites me. Okay, so it’s decided. I’ll jump. What’s next?
2 Make a to-do list.
This is an easy one… say goodbye, find a building, ****ing jump. Next.
3. Schedule a due-date.
Alright, this requires a bit more thought. Tuesday doesn’t work, I’ve got a hockey practice. Oh wait… fine, Tuesday will be good. That’s tomorrow too… gives me some time to say goodbye and whatnot. Maybe even become Mr. Dick-For-a-Day, the sky is the limit now. Next.
4. Stick to your commitment.
I guess we’ll cross this bridge when we come to it. Alright, time for bed. Big day tomorrow.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Holy ****! My alarm clock scared the hell out of me. I had the most amazing, profound dream… sort of like a preview. I expected to dream about today, but not so vividly. I thought the deed was done until I woke up, screaming too. Damn, now I have to do this all over again.
My mom is still in bed, and my dad’s at work, so I’m alone with my plate of bacon and toast, as well as my own thoughts. Time to think… what should I do today? Should I go out with a bang? I have to make sure people know I’m gone… show those bastards what they’ve done to me, what they’ve driven me too. I smirk at the very thought. I think today’s going to be an unusually great school day. Plus, I’ve still got two more points on my list to get through… busy day.
Math again, in the morning, and it’s my first period class too. Why does math have to be my first class of the day? Time to do something these *******s will never forget.
“Can you tell me the square root of 144?”
This is what Mrs. Anglez asked me. Now is the time. I get up, shove her bony frame against the blackboard, and lean forward to whisper in her ear: “**** you”. I toss that ***** on the floor and walk heavy-footed out of the classroom. As I exit the doorway, there’s just one sound I hear: Tick… Tick… Tick…
I’m done here now, there’s nothing left for me. I wanted to go out with a bang, I’ve done that, time to finish Points 4 and 5 on my list.
The apartment building just next to the school is perfect… at least 40 stories tall, and a rough gravel parking lot below, to ensure a merciless and certain death. I enter the building, and push the elevator button. One minute, two minutes, no elevator. What the hell? I then notice the sign: “Elevator Out Of Service. Sorry for the inconvenience!” Great, I’ll probably die of exhaustion before I even reach the roof.
10 floors, 20, 30, almost there! I can feel my legs giving way, I’m not sure if I’ll make it. 39 floors, 40… freaking finally. I open the door to the roof, and am immediately hit by the shining sun and a gust of wind. Great, I can’t see. I walk onto the roof, and “Crunch!” step on the stoned rooftop. What an incredible view. This is going to be fantastic. I can’t tell if I feel excited or terrified… probably both. I slowly walk over to the roof’s edge and peer off. Wow, am I ever high up. I’m starting to have my doubts. No, I can’t doubt:
4. Stick to your commitment.
I have to do this. It’s time for the leap of faith.
I back up 5 paces. What’s that in my throat? Oh, never mind, it’s just my heart. This is it. 5…4…3…2…1…
And off we go. ****, wait! No! Not now! I don’t want this now! But it’s too late, I’ve gone over the edge, quite literally. I reach up to grab a bar or something, like they do in the movies. Yeah right.
Why am I not screaming? Probably because I know, deep down, this is it. It’s just as exhilarating as I thought it would be and more. It almost feels like flying. I almost wish I could fly right now. In just a few seconds, I’ll be a beautiful abstract painting, a stained red indicative of sadness, sorrow, pain…
5. Reward yourself with some free time.
Simple enough. I’ll have nothing BUT free time when I’m---
COUNTING TILES
By Michael Kras
“So, if x+y= 28, and x=12, what does y equal?”
The teacher awaits her answer. There is a moment of pure silence… you could damn near hear a pin drop. I tap my pockets to look for a pin.
Suddenly, another noise appears, almost from nowhere. Funny how one can only notice things like this after a few moments of concentration. The sound is very faint, but very familiar.
Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick... Tick… Tick…
There’s a ray of hope for as long as it takes to go from tick to tick… is this the end? Will this be our redemption? Then the realization… no, it’s just the ****ing clock. No “Tick… Tick… BOOM”, just a ****ing “Tick… Tick… Tick…”
“Y=16, very good! Now, what if the answer had been 47?...”
I zone out… what’s the ****ing point? When is this algebra **** ever going to come up in my life? I decide to just sit and carve my name into the desk… mark my territory. I almost turn to smirk at my friends… but another realization… I have none. What is wrong with me today? Why can’t I think straight? It’s got to be the ****ing ticking of the clock.
This is my math classroom… it’s small, and we’ve only got about 10 students including me. The room has a water-stained ceiling that was probably white at one time and about 30 desks, each one damn near falling apart. Mine has a wobble that annoys me to the Nth degree… wait, what is N? Maybe I will need algebra, at some point. I turn back to the lesson.
“… and that’s how you solve for an unknown. Remember, if you have two unknown variables, x+y=… will be your final answer, you can’t take it any further. Alright, any test sign-ups?”
****, right when I tune in too. The rest of the class is for silent work… great, another 45 minutes of sitting and doing nothing. I glance around the room, looking at all of the floor tiles for a moment. There are 316 there, I know that for sure. I’ve counted and recounted them at least a dozen times… but wait. Something catches my eye…the only bright colourful thing in this disgustingly dingy room. It’s a poster… one of those lame motivational posters they put above chalkboards to shout “You Can Do It!” in futile attempts to drive the average student to success. Who are they kidding?
This one got me thinking, though… At the top, in bold lettering (each letter a different colour, how cute), is the title: “GET ORGANIZED!” and a brightly-coloured sun just above. There’s a list, numbered One to Five, below:
1. Plan ahead.
2. Make a to-do list
3. Schedule your due-date
4. Stick to your commitment
5. Reward yourself with some free time
Ah, what the hell. I pull out my journal and write each point on the list down as if I actually plan to use this “indispensible knowledge”. I tear the sheet out, ball it up, and toss it in my jacket pocket. Whatever. Suddenly I hear another noise, much more distinct (not to mention unmistakeable)…FINALLY, the bell, I can get out of here. I think I’ll just skip Period Two, I always get kicked out anyways.
“Hello??”
I yell into my house as I enter the doorway. No response, of course. Both parents are still at work. I suddenly need to use the bathroom so I dash down the hall. FLUSH, I wash my hands… but something catches my eye. On the sink counter, right next to the toothbrush holder… a bottle of toilet cleaner. This could be the best idea I’ve ever had, not to mention my last.
I carefully unscrew the lid. This is scary… I should feel nervous, reluctant, but I don’t… I don’t feel any ****ing different. I guess I know this is what I have to do. Goddamn it. I bring the bottle up to my lips, and cough. The smell of this stuff, so potent and so sudden, catches me off guard… but I’ll continue. I press the bottle to my lips and slowly tilt it. I almost don’t want to do it, but at the same time I don’t feel like stopping myself… all the more reason to keep going.
Damn, this stuff is thick, I feel it run down the side of the bottle and hit my lips. I haven’t opened my mouth, not just yet. “Come ON, just DO IT”. I open up.
****. Why do I have to be such a frightened little pansy? I spit the thick blue stuff into the sink and immediately rinse my mouth with water a few times. This isn’t going to work… it can’t be done this way. If I’m going to off myself, I have to plan it out, make sure I’m ready. Drinking Lysol products at the spur of the moment isn’t going to cut it. I’ve got to get a plan. I’ve got to… Get Organized.
I rummage through my jacket pocket. Keys, lint… wad of paper. I pull the paper out, unfold it. Damn, my writing is a bit smudged… but I can still read it.
1. Plan Ahead.
I grab my notebook… it’s time to brainstorm. I tried the poison thing already, that didn’t work out. Hanging? No, too cliché. Shoot or stab myself? No, too much room to back out. This is harder than I thought it would be. Drug overdose? No, too risky, I might live through it.
Finally, it hits me. Just jump. Find a cliff or building or something and just ****ing jump. So simplistic, and oddly beautiful, I can just imagine those final moments, soaring through the sky. It would be pure exhilaration, then BAM, instant liberation. Just the thought excites me. Okay, so it’s decided. I’ll jump. What’s next?
2 Make a to-do list.
This is an easy one… say goodbye, find a building, ****ing jump. Next.
3. Schedule a due-date.
Alright, this requires a bit more thought. Tuesday doesn’t work, I’ve got a hockey practice. Oh wait… fine, Tuesday will be good. That’s tomorrow too… gives me some time to say goodbye and whatnot. Maybe even become Mr. Dick-For-a-Day, the sky is the limit now. Next.
4. Stick to your commitment.
I guess we’ll cross this bridge when we come to it. Alright, time for bed. Big day tomorrow.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Holy ****! My alarm clock scared the hell out of me. I had the most amazing, profound dream… sort of like a preview. I expected to dream about today, but not so vividly. I thought the deed was done until I woke up, screaming too. Damn, now I have to do this all over again.
My mom is still in bed, and my dad’s at work, so I’m alone with my plate of bacon and toast, as well as my own thoughts. Time to think… what should I do today? Should I go out with a bang? I have to make sure people know I’m gone… show those bastards what they’ve done to me, what they’ve driven me too. I smirk at the very thought. I think today’s going to be an unusually great school day. Plus, I’ve still got two more points on my list to get through… busy day.
Math again, in the morning, and it’s my first period class too. Why does math have to be my first class of the day? Time to do something these *******s will never forget.
“Can you tell me the square root of 144?”
This is what Mrs. Anglez asked me. Now is the time. I get up, shove her bony frame against the blackboard, and lean forward to whisper in her ear: “**** you”. I toss that ***** on the floor and walk heavy-footed out of the classroom. As I exit the doorway, there’s just one sound I hear: Tick… Tick… Tick…
I’m done here now, there’s nothing left for me. I wanted to go out with a bang, I’ve done that, time to finish Points 4 and 5 on my list.
The apartment building just next to the school is perfect… at least 40 stories tall, and a rough gravel parking lot below, to ensure a merciless and certain death. I enter the building, and push the elevator button. One minute, two minutes, no elevator. What the hell? I then notice the sign: “Elevator Out Of Service. Sorry for the inconvenience!” Great, I’ll probably die of exhaustion before I even reach the roof.
10 floors, 20, 30, almost there! I can feel my legs giving way, I’m not sure if I’ll make it. 39 floors, 40… freaking finally. I open the door to the roof, and am immediately hit by the shining sun and a gust of wind. Great, I can’t see. I walk onto the roof, and “Crunch!” step on the stoned rooftop. What an incredible view. This is going to be fantastic. I can’t tell if I feel excited or terrified… probably both. I slowly walk over to the roof’s edge and peer off. Wow, am I ever high up. I’m starting to have my doubts. No, I can’t doubt:
4. Stick to your commitment.
I have to do this. It’s time for the leap of faith.
I back up 5 paces. What’s that in my throat? Oh, never mind, it’s just my heart. This is it. 5…4…3…2…1…
And off we go. ****, wait! No! Not now! I don’t want this now! But it’s too late, I’ve gone over the edge, quite literally. I reach up to grab a bar or something, like they do in the movies. Yeah right.
Why am I not screaming? Probably because I know, deep down, this is it. It’s just as exhilarating as I thought it would be and more. It almost feels like flying. I almost wish I could fly right now. In just a few seconds, I’ll be a beautiful abstract painting, a stained red indicative of sadness, sorrow, pain…
5. Reward yourself with some free time.
Simple enough. I’ll have nothing BUT free time when I’m---
