Kieth

Long time no blog, I suppose. I'm awaiting the chance to rax my two pieces of writing from school so I can put them on here, but in the meantime, enjoy another old piece. This one's called "Kieth". 

“He’s so smart he doesn't even remember what he knows,” quipped a boy from the back.

“Cut the kid some slack, he’s trying!”

The teacher turned around. “Well?”

He just sat in his chair and stared hard at the whiteboard. He thought of staring so hard at it that it would break in two. He liked imaging scenarios. Nothing could shake the concentrated look in his eyes, avoiding distraction or, ultimately, any human contact. Although it was proving a little difficult, sitting in the middle row of a class of twenty four students and one infuriated Geography teacher. She had simply asked him the location of Borneo on the laminated map of the world, Blu-tacked onto the board for the lesson. She asked a simple question, so he gave her a simple answer: silence.

Most kids had gathered the wrong impression of the boy; they thought he was thick, slow, stupid. The boy knew exactly where Borneo was. He could point it out on the board and probably give the national language and animal if he so wished. Underneath his cold exterior, this kid had a mind which was simmering with knowledge, but he was too stubborn to show it. Conservative? Yes.

 But was he stupid? Not in the slightest. It was his test. It was him against everyone else who came into close range of him. You were his victim, drawn to presumptions which you may never correct, given the fact he never revealed his true self. The fascinating thing about this kid was his level of self-control. He could co-operate and show his extraordinary intellect, be the pet of all teachers: yet he did not choose to. He was humiliated. None of his friends were outrageously intelligent and he didn’t quite feel comfortable being the only one. So, naturally, he copped out.

“If I have to ask you one more time, you’ll be out the door.”

Roused from his daydream, he absentmindedly flicked a scrap of paper from the desk and rested all four chair legs on the ground. He looked around. Every kid had their eyes on him. Since the start of the lesson the class had been relatively settled, but every teacher knows that it only takes one student to disrupt the lesson. The boy lifted his head, tilted his chin and stared at Mrs. Thripp, hands firmly planted on her hips; her lips upturned and pinched. He began to imagine her hands sink into her figure like quicksand, and caught the stifled giggle which nearly escaped his lips. Regaining composure, he spoke for the first time in fifty minutes.

“I didn’t hear the question.”

All around him there were sniggers, uncomfortable sounds swimming in an empty silence. They were waiting for an answer. But he wasn’t clueless.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Hasta luego, muchachos~ Holly.