Reclusive Education

Another story for school.

Desolate. Abandoned. A perfect foyer for a loner like myself.  I’ve always felt the presence of others has impeded on my ability to produce great work. Others are too focused on socializing, or dealing with human emotions; this has always been a distastefully moot exercise of brain power.  My resounding footsteps bring me closer to the studio as I progress through the gray hall.  I halt in my tracks as I reach the threshold of the studio doors. The only audible sound, a simple hum of the fluorescent bulbs dispersed across the ceiling.
               Crumpled papers litter my workspace, feverishly I put line on paper trying to depict an accurate perspective for my school project.  Gradually, my efforts transition from exuberant and plentiful, to the monotonous and mundane feeling of a worker drone. My grin fades from one of determination to desperation, as the luster of creation dulls out.  As the hours pass, the lids of my eyes and the frame of my head both increase in weight tenfold. As I fight the ensuing paralysis, it gets the better of me and I barely feel the impact of the light table on my forehead.
   *   *   *   *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
                 Bolting forward, I can’t help but hyperventilate. Once again, I’m late for class; I feel hazy this morning. Everyone could have started without me. My only priority right now is sprinting through these halls and getting to class.
              They’re gone….. I’m at a complete loss of words. The theatre is completely empty. My greatest wish has finally rung true �" complete isolation. Seclusion. Bliss swelled through my mind, if only for one brief moment. A bittersweet chill was soon found as a replacement. With no one here, there’s no one to judge my work. My work has no value. No one will be here to remember me… Something must be done!
         Stumbling over myself, I gallop through the halls. Carrying myself like a rabid Bambi, I slam around either corner desperately looking for life. When I finally reach the studio, it too is devoid of all life, albeit there was one other being approaching from the hallway behind me. My favourite custodian stood in the threshold, puzzled. He gave me a peculiar look, then smirked.
         “It’s Saturday, you know?”
                                  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

                  Surging panic flushed through me, as I woke from my slumber.  I had slept nearly until the close of the building, and hadn’t gotten anything done. In a panic, I ran out of the studio and down the hallway; stopping only briefly to wash my face in the bathroom on my way out of the building. My weekend, it seemed, would have to be spent in the studio once again.

Author's Note

This was originally 3 paragraphs and the group I was working with wanted me to add the dream sequence. It was accompanied by a slide show of various still shots.