The Blank Page

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There it was. Just staring at me like it wanted something. Oh right! It did want something… words. The blank page with blue lines going horizontally and one red one going vertically on both sides. And those three, dark, empty holes on the left side of the paper. Staring at me, watching me, waiting for me to do something.

After five minutes of staring at the paper, I finally gave in. I started to at least attempt at writing something. I started with the most common beginning for a story:

Once upon a time…

I’m already starting to erase. I look at the clock, five minutes left till the bell rings. I look down at my paper, still empty. Ugh! I look at the clock, five more minutes left, nothing has changed. It’s like time is just five minutes slower when you are in a classroom. On my page is a few pieces of eraser and leftover smears of graphite from my pencil. I start doodling all over my page when I realize that I had done it again. Most of my English book was filled with doodles, not words.

All of a sudden, I hear the beautiful sound of the bell. “Okay, that’s break,” says Mrs. Spoor. “But before you leave don’t forget to turn in your English notebooks for grading.”

I turn around unhappily away from the door and get in the now existent line at the edge of Mrs. Spoor’s desk. For a second, I get scared. What if I get a bad grade for all of the doodles? Says my conscience. I’m at the front of the line. My last choice,”Come on Frankie, you’re holding up the line,” says Mrs. Spoor. I begin to open my mouth to tell Mrs. Spoor that I need more time to perfect it… when I hear it. I turn around to have the cool breeze and the warm sun wash over my face. I turn in my English book without thinking and run outside.

I instantly get goose bumps from the sudden change of temperature. I am at the edge of the railing standing there like a lizard basking in the sun on a rock. I talk with my friends (in the sun) for the six minutes of break. When of course, the bell rings again signaling all the students and teachers that break is over. I walk unwillingly into the entrance of the cold and icey room and sit down at Slytherin table.

The next day, at nutrition my friends and I are talking about what we got on Schoology for our English journals. “I got a B,” said Olivia. “I got a C,” said Abigail unhappily. “I got an A!” said Emma happily. “Hmm, my grade wasn’t up there,” I said to my friends. The bell rang and we all went to class. We read the book: Harry Potter for the entire period until break. We all ran outside. “Frankie! Can you come see me please?” said Mrs. Spoor. I walked nervously to her desk. Was I in trouble? I wondered.

“Would you like to explain to me what this is?” she said, holding up my English book that was open to one of my doodles of a mixture of a horse and elephant and a duck. I just nodded no. “I’m going to give you one last chance to redeem yourself. I’m going to give you a test. If you get above a B, I’m going to forget about this journal. But if you get a C or lower, you go to intervention and you get marked for your work in this journal.”

“Okay, thank you Mrs. Spoor,” I said to her with a sigh of relief.

A week passed and the test was today. When I walked into Mrs. Spoor’s classroom, she signaled me to come to her desk. “I want you to write a three page essay on anything. I will give you three days to finish.” she said. I went to my desk to get started. What should I write about, I thought to myself. All of a sudden I had a brilliant idea, an idea that would change my grade, and secure my grade for the entire year. If I, didn’t have anything to write about. I could just write about that! I got started, and after three days I had three pages ready to be turned into Mrs. Spoor.

I stood in front of her desk while she read it quietly. Oh no! I’m probably going to fail! One of the voices in my voice said. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine! Said the other. She uncapped her red pen and wrote something on it and folded it in half. “You are not allowed to unfold this until you have checked Schoology, okay,”she said. “Okay,” I said.

The rest of the day, I was looking at the clock. I was bursting to open the folded piece of paper. But I resisted.

I was in the gym, it was the last period and there was one minute left until the bell would ring. When I got home I instantly ran to my room to my computer with my paper. I clicked on grades, and there was English waiting for me. I clicked on it and looked on the course grade. Few! Still a B. I unfolded my essay and in the right hand corner there was a big red A written down. I looked back at Schoology there was a note next to my grade on the notebook. The only thing you need is a title, it said. I took my pen and wrote on the top of my essay, THE BLANK PAGE.             

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