Things From My Fangirling Mind

My Creative Writing Assessment Which Got Me Excellence

Today I got my results back for a creative writing assessment I did and I GOT EXCELLENCE (first, I won Gold in my Taekwondo tournament. Second, I got excellence on a speech I didn't practice. Third, I got this result for my creative writing and just a few hours ago, found out I was mentioned in my local newspaper and was on Stuff.co.nz)

Enjoy my creative writing assessment though.

Today was the day I literally went insane. I’ve gone so insane, I am sitting in the back seat of my family’s car. My mother keeps telling me things like “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll be alright” or “You won’t be there for that long”. My father on the other hand stays silent, focusing on the drive ahead of him.

I just stay in the back seat, twisting a strand of hair between my fingers as if I want to curl my hair. The car is silent except for the radio playing pop songs, my mother’s constant speaking and myself humming along to the songs.

I begin mumbling things to myself about the songs on the radio. My mother’s eyes are on me, worry clear on her face. I just continue to mumble things to myself and twirling that strand of hair between my fingers.

Our car pulls up in front of the building and I stop twirling my strand of hair. My father opens the door for me and silently helps me out. Something in my mind tells me to release from the grip of my father, run away and don’t look back.

But I stay in my father’s grip as he pulls me towards the building. I feel a warm tear fall down my cheek as I’m practically dragged into the building. My mother tells the woman at the desk what is happening.

Two burly men wearing white shirts and pants come out into the reception room where we are. They direct me out of the reception room to take me to a room. I look over my shoulder to see my father filling out a form while my mother cries. I feel myself cry as I see the sight behind me. My father doesn’t care and would happily get rid of me while all the emotion my father should have over me is displayed in my mother.

The two men direct me to a room down a hallway. It’s small, white and squared. There’s a single bed, a bed side table and a fold out chair. The white wallpaper is darkened from age and is peeling in corners and in random places. I brush my fingers over the peeling wallpaper, peeling piece down the wall.

I sit myself down on the bed, staring at the blank wall. All of the walls are so blank. There is a knock at the door and a balding grey haired man enters wearing an old suit and spectacles on his nose.

“Hello Beth Henderson. I am Doctor Hudson, the head psychiatrist here.” The man says with a kind tone.

I nod, not saying anything since I haven’t talked properly in days. I slide my legs onto the bed, hugging them to my chest as Doctor Hudson grabs the fold out chair to sit in front of me.

“How old are you, Beth?” Doctor Hudson asks.

“18.” I mumble.

“That’s quite young, isn’t it?” Doctor Hudson asks.

I nod.

“Not much of a talker, aren’t you?” Doctor Hudson asks.

I nod again, biting my lip slightly.

“Why are you in here?” Doctor Hudson asks, leaning forward.

I shrug. I really didn’t know the real reason.

“According to the form your father filled out,” Doctor Hudson studies a piece of paper then speaks again, “You witnessed your best friend be murdered and haven’t been the same since.”