Napalm Strike

I never set foot in that room again, at least until after our break. I saw things I was never meant to see. It’s hard to unsee what has just been seen. It still burns holes in my eyes. I wish I didn’t see that. Man, that was rough. If only I didn’t go towards it and look at it. Ugh, this is unbearable. I thought it was better than it actually was. But wow was I wrong. This is unbearable. Why? Just why did it have to be this way. Why couldn’t it have been better when I saw what I saw. This is so annoying and frustrating it hurts. I hate that room. I want the room to burn. This is not fair. Please make the pain stop. Why couldn’t it have just been a cute bunny or a harmless stack of blank paper? God I hate that room. I will never go back. This is the end. I give up. I’m going to flip a table. Man, I feel like screaming. I worked so hard, and for this?? I can still see it. It’s still in my head haunting me. Staring at me with the most evil, wicked smile it’s face. Oh my god it’s horrifying. It’s so repulsing it’s worth calling an airstrike on it. That is what I’m going to do. I’m going to call in a Napalm Strike. My killstreak is through the roof and I’m bouta blow this up. The whole room. I feel like Mario when gets that star thing and goes ham on everything. I’m done. I’m a white girl with her Uggs and North-Face branded jacket on that can’t even. Except I’m not because I’m a brown kid who is irritated and scarred after stepping it that room. I’m still thinking about it. It won’t go away. I can feel it’s presence. The force is strong in this one. It’s devil-like character is breathing down my neck, anchoring me down. Get off me. Please, go away. I can’t escape it. I look at it, wondering why. Why? What did I do to deserve this? How could this happen to me? Of everything, one number sticks out, haunting me. 89. I don’t want to be here anymore. Get me away from this. I can’t keep looking at this. Even when I flip the packet over, the number burns through the paper and I can still see it staring at me with the same grin as the Grinch when he got the idea to steal all the presents from Whoville.

When will this end? Oh, wait, it is ending! It’s going away! Thank God, Mr. Lengel is collecting the midterms.

– Naren Mathawan, The Haverford School, Class of 2017

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