Restless Desires

Chapter One

"Your assignment for the next three weeks before finals is to bring to life an idea through the art of creative writing. Now I am lenient on the form in which you choose to go about expressing your creativity. Whether it be a poem, an essay or maybe even a short story. In three weeks time I want you to hand in your absolute best work in the form you see fit. I know most English Literature Professors would slap a dusty old book in front of you and demand you to read it cover to cover and hand in an intellectually riveting interpretation's of what you've just read, but I, unlike most, know that the world of technology is among us and their are some sites out there that offer you a way out of your own creative process. Therefore I know the heart of this challenge will be for you to overcome your own thought process and-" Mr. Dawson gasped and slapped his hand to his cheek while his mouth formed an O shape.

" Actually having to do the work yourself. But don't let that deter you from trying. Who knows, maybe someone in this very classroom could produce the next Herman Melville!" Mr. Dawson smiled in admiration at the mention of Herman Melville. what was it about English lit professors and the author of 'Moby Dick'?

Just as Mr. Dawson opened his mouth the sound of the dismissal bell bounced off the four walls of the classroom. With a look of disappointment, Mr. Dawson retreated back behind his desk and began closing his books.

"Please people! I encourage you to go back to your dorms and truly brainstorm ideas for your project! And might I add it is worth 40%! Which the majority of you need to pass!" A look of dismay fell across Mr. Dawson's face as his mouth hung open, almost to give the illusion that he had so much more to say. Typical English teacher mentality, so much to talk about, so little time.

Eliza Castings reached behind herself for the strap of her backpack. She tucked her loose leaf note paper between the two glossy covers of her English binder and slid it under her arm before forfeiting her seat and following the rest of the herd out of the classroom.

-

"3 whole weeks to complete a short story as to why Mr. D is what's wrong with this college, Oh I can't wait." Lacey bumped herself against the metal facing of the closed locker next to Eliza's opened one. Eliza leaned slightly so she could see over her open locker door to make out Lacey's expression. Given that sarcasm was strong in her tone of voice, it was already safe to assume she was smiling.

"And here I thought you were going to write about your tragic break up with Trevor." Eliza snickered, while stacked her binders on the top shelf of her locker before reaching for her favourite worn out jean coat. Sliding her arms through the sleeves while watching Lacey pad away on her phone screen, completely oblivious to her surroundings as usual.

"Please, Trevor doesn't deserve a lick of time let alone a brief essay as to why he's such a pompous dick head." Lacey smiled up at Eliza from her phone screen. Eliza reciprocated the facial expression with a slight head tilt and only a hint snakiness.

"Any ideas as to what you're gonna write about?" Lacey pushed the locker door closed just as Eliza grabbed her backpack and swung it over her shoulder.

"No sweet clue. Probably just use the base line from one of my previous short stories and just update it a bit." Eliza gave a shrug as they stepped out the doors of the Jenkins building and proceeded on route to their natural habitat, the picnic table over by the soccer fields.

"Fuck you for not being creatively challenged. I hate being forced to make up some shit that's suppose to captivate someone else's imagination. My thoughts are just as fucked up as I am and I gave up years ago on trying to get people to understand them." Lacey shrugged her shoulder bag off and tossed it on the picnic table before sliding onto the bench.