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The Sequester

I am in long, formal class room. The desks are long and fold out, and the chairs we are seated at are padded and expensive. We, as a school, have traveled to this location for a huge test: one that will be the main part of our grade. If we don't pass this, we won't pass high school at all. As everyone works on final edits, I sit with my friend Alexia. She points out this really cute boy whom is from another visiting school. He's tall, has dark brown wavy hair, and a very attractive face. I agree that he's cute. She says she's going for it. I just laugh at her until she makes thrusting jesters at him. This gets him to walk over to us and talk to her. They laugh and get along before he walks over to a seat by the wall without a desk. I find myself jealous of Alexia. She's always been so brave when it came to guys. When she sees someone she finds attractive, she can just talk to them like nothing. When I find someone attractive, I just creepily stare because I have no guts to actually start a conversation. In this way, I envy her. She takes up my arm and pulls me from my thoughts. "Come on, lets sit with him," Alexia says. I'm shocked by her declaration, but go along with it. She sits in the only chair next to him, and I stand awkwardly by. I keep glancing at the overseer, an old woman whom I've never seen before. She's supposedly new to the position. I hope she doesn't yell at me for standing instead of sitting, and talking instead of working. I don't want to work on the paper right now though, and I've almost got it done. I know I have a draft, and now all I need is the edits. It's due tomorrow anyways. Alexia flirts with the boy and I cram my face full of chips. She says something like, "We just came over to talk to you," and when she sees that I'm not paying attention to them at all she adds, "with no help from her." I look at her now with my mouth full of chips, and give her a closed-mouth smile before swallowing. She continues to talk. I barely participate in the conversation. Then, she declares she needs to pee and that she'll be right back. She leaves the room, and I buck up the courage to talk to the guy. I don't want to "steal" him from her, because I know she likes him, but it feels weird to not talk now that it's just us. Also, I think that maybe it will help me gain courage to talk to someone I like in the future. So, I start up conversation. We talk about Alexia a little bit, all good things. I ask what he likes to do. He says write. I excitedly tell him I'm a writer too. I ask him what kind of stuff he writes, and he tells me poetry. I sit in Alexia's chair. He goes on about how poetry was once called something else, and how it frustrated him that it's not more appreciated. I like him even more now that I know he writes. But then I see Alexia coming through the door, so I quickly stand out of the chair.
The overseer comes over and says, "Why be so quiet? Go ahead, f**k s**t up, I don't care." We're all surprised by her leniency. It's true however, barely anyone is really working. Most everyone else is talking quietly, until she says that. People jump up, stand together instead of staying seated. The boy gets up and beckons us to follow him. He leads up to a closet across the room. I immediately think that he's going to get a piece of his poetry to share with us, but instead he pulls out a hand-sculpted vase that he made in art class. He's not showing me. He's showing Alexia. I know that I didn't want to "get in her way" or anything, but it does make my heart sink to be left out of the loop now. They move on to look at other artwork on the bookshelves, and I sit in an empty chair by the vase that he set on a shelf. I touch it gently, turning it so I can see all the splattered-glaze colors on top of the white clay. It's really beautiful. Some popular boys of my grade run by, holding vases. They're all trying to show Darel, to impress him with the other people's vase's. "Look at this one!" "Look how cool this one is!" they say to him. I just try to not be stampeeded. I see a Larry hold up a small burnt orange vase, the size of his hand. It's nothing special, so at this point I know that they're just messing around for no reason. They're boisterousness apparently upsets the overseer, though I do not know that. I get up to look at the other artwork, not realizing everyone is commanded back into their seats. Me and another girl in my row are the last to notice and head back to our seats from the shelves. She sits in the same row as me. She sits down first. The overseer walks down the row in front of our desks, and gives the girl envelope first. I'm last.
The overseer hold out the yellow legal envelope and says, "Since you're last to your seat, you will go first." I feel the blood leave my face. "What?" I whimper. "Read your sequester out loud to everyone," she orders. "But, they're not due until tomorrow. Can't someone else read first?" I say as respectfully as I can. "It'll be practice. You'll read first, THEN someone else, if you give them enough time. Now, start reading."
I shake as I open the envelope and pull out the thick stack of papers. "You've got to be kidding me," the girl sitting on my right, a classmate of mine named Edie, complains when she sees my math papers instead of my sequester. She gives it a distasteful look before shaking her head. "It's just my math, calm down," I say frustrated with her reaction. "My paper IS in here." I shuffle through the papers, most either notes I took on my paper or math pages covered in hand written algebra, and finally find my fifteen-page sequester stapled together. I pull it up and flip it over so I'm on the front page. Half of it's lines are hand written, some are typed. Edie moans at the sight of it. "What is your paper on?" the teacher asks impatiently. "I... I choose th.. the people category," I stumble. "Go on," she says with a stern bored tone.
I swallow nervously and read my title, "History of Women." Then I start to try to read my paper. It's hard to understand. I stumble and stutter, "Wo...Women are always have... been discourage, I mean, in... insp... inser..." I struggle with these two hand written words starting with i. The look like isepiarateasd and insepargehd to me, and despite being the one that wrote them, I have no idea what I was trying to say. It feels like I wrote this paper years ago, and have long forgotten my intentions. I pronounce the miserably misspelled words the best I can, making Edie grumble, "You've got to be kidding me." I feel my face get red hot as I try to continue. It takes me forever just to get through the first two-line paragraphs. She continues to cut me down and make me feel even more embarrassed. I can feel the boy and Alexia, still sitting in the chairs without a table along the wall across from me, looking at me. I can't believe the amount of embarrassment I am feeling. Suddenly, I hit a wrong button. I'm no longer looking at a packet of paper but instead an iPad. The back button takes me to Pinterest, where I saved my paper. "Keep going," the teacher orders. "I... I lost my place," I say weakly. "Are you serious?!" Edie gasps with a disgusted look. I feel like a failure. I feel like an idiot. I scramble to get back to my paper, when the overseer walks over to me and holds a pen and paper. "What is your name, address, and phone number?" My eyes shake as I look up at her stern face. My eyes water. "Stephanie ********," I tell her, trying to hold back tears. "Address," she says as she shakes her head. "2280 Cardinal Road," I tell her. "Why?" I manage to ask. "I'm going to look up your paper, and tell your parents what an awful job you have done." She pulls up Pinterest on her own iPad. I scramble to make the board viewable on my own iPad before she opens it up. I can't seem to figure out how. I feel everyone watching me. No one feeling sorry for me. [End]

Relative to Real Life~
Night of March 10th, 2013
Real-life characters: Alexia, Darel, Larry, Edie.
Dream-created characters: Cute boy, overseer, other students, girl second-to-last.
Real-life places: None.
Dream-created places: Classroom.
Different than real life: I graduated high school quite some time ago, I've never met a boy like that boy in my dream, I haven't spoken to Alexia or any of the people I knew for at least over a year, Edie really was cruel and rude when other people read their works and would often say comments similar to those but not so harsh nor while they were reading, I don't recall Edie ever doing this to my works but I was always terrified she would, there was never a paper that would decide if I passed of failed my entire school career, nor was there ever a paper titled a sequester, I've never written a paper on women.
Reasons:
Sequester = The tv was left on, and the news was playing I do believe they were discussing the sequester.
Precognitive: No experiences.
Reoccurring: No.

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