170 days.

                                    170 days.                  Helen Proskow   September 19, 2011

I sitting here, dumfounded!  The most generic topic has been decided for the first essay of my last year at Maggie High.  Flabbergasted, my brain is crammed with a plethora of useable information and unworkable random nonsense. I am Flustered, on the edge of my seat, not knowing what my topic shall be.  Looking around at my fellow peers, my hand is unsteady and shaking at the thought of nothing, sweat drizzling down my face.  Trembling with trepidation, my heart beats to the pace of the dreadful tick tock of the irritating clock. The rapid sounds of pencils scratching the fresh pressed pieces of loose leaf send shrieking shivers down my fragile spine. The typical topic shouldn’t be so dreadful; it should not be filled with so much suspense.  Will every day feel like this for the next 170 days?   Come to think of it, it is pretty easy!