About 25 minutes to complete an essay in English class. No specific topic. No extra time. Her mind wasn't blank. But what was she to write about? Her mother had just passed. Her brother had recently taken his life. And her relationship with her boyfriend had ended hours earlier. No need to write of her self-pity, of course. But at this point these were the thoughts that clouded her mind.
Her teacher was of the conventional type: mildly attractive and not exactly willing to provide the extra credit students often requested when they've decided their grade is a bit too low at the end of the semester.
She lifted her pencil to write her name on her paper. The date. The subject. Perhaps a title would be appropriate: "Me" - a bit too rehearsed. "My Life" - not very original. "Their Last Day" - a bit too abstract, especially for the essay she had planned.
Perhaps the essay should be an explanation. Her life didn't need to seem doused with pitiful accounts. How she'd learned from past mistakes. How she'd learned that trust is something amassed with time, not something immediately given or received. Or how she's dealt with the loss of loved ones.
Eraser shavings dropped to the floor as she composed her essay now, with only 15 minutes left to write. And she went home that day considering the grade she'd receive for her essay.
Her teacher passed back their essays the next day. And she was handed hers with a 'C' hovering over the blank page on which she'd composed her story. She'd gotten an 'C,' which was seemingly made more devastating by the red message placed underneath it. Her teacher had written her a note.
"The assignment was to write about an event in your life that has impacted you. You wrote nothing in the 25 minutes that I gave you and for that you've received an 'F.' But sometimes the least amount of words can have the greatest impact and for that you've received an 'A.'"
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