Prairie Ridge: A Short Story

“When in the world will this class end,” I muttered to myself, careful not to be loud enough the teacher could hear. I was practically dying of boredom, so much so that I was focusing on the tick-tock of the clock, and my head was starting to droop, falling slowly to rest on my desk. That is when I realized boredom was a real threat, and I had to do something drastic to save my life.

Eternal torture began. Again. It went something like this every day of my life…

Beep! Beep! I rose out of my bed and hastily turned the alarm clock off, careful not to break it, but hard enough to bring me a little joy. Only half awake, I attempted to scurry down the stairs, but ended up napping on one of the steps.

My eyes fluttered open for a split second, then

Beep! Beep! This time, I held nothing back on the alarm clock. I think I had nearly broken it, my anticipation filling me with the strength to accomplish anything. Today, I did not sleep on the stairs. I got ready for school as slowly, and slowly I prepared myself for the day to come. I made a mental checklist of items on my agenda I needed to accomplish, and practiced telling my teachers what I would say to them.

And so off to Prairie Ridge I went. That day, and all days for the rest of the school year were always the same. I was still bored in school, but at least I was doing relatively fun extensions. Still, it didn’t feel right. I knew I just needed to stick it out until summer, and then I could truly change my life.

Summer rolled around, and simultaneously became the best and worst summer of my life. I asked my mom if we could look into skipping a grade in math, and she proceeded to do just that. She informed me I was going to have to take a test over sixth-grade math at the end of the summer, and if I passed it with a high enough grade, I could skip a year of math. That was the good news, the part that made it the best summer of my life. That was the news that made me jump for joy, the feeling of accomplishment already swelling through my body, energizing each bone and muscle.

“So it could be done!” I silently screamed in my head, letting that thought juggle around in my brain for a

With my reenergized body came a reenergized brain. My brain was once again racing, just as it had been the night before. I began to doubt myself, but then I would remind myself how much I had studied. I got nervous, but at the same time excited to finally have a chance to change my life. My brain was having a war with itself, trying to beat me down and prepare myself at the same time. I was hardly focusing on my surroundings. All I knew was that my stomach had settled into a feeling of cold dread.

I realized I was at the school. Somehow, my mom had herded me into the car and drove me there. She had also grabbed all my supplies, including my small calculator, the five freshly sharpened number two pencils, my extra notebook paper, and the book I was reading. Perhaps the most useful of all my supplies,however, was the snacks that filled the air with an aroma worthy of the gods spoken of in myth.

I quickly got settled into a small room. The walls were white, but not made out of bricks, an unusual sight to behold. I worked at a large table, with at least ten chairs. Spreading my supplies out, I pulled out my pencil, took one last look at the walls, and got to