I created this post/story using “The Writer’s Toolbox,” which was created by Jamie Cat Callan.
In this delightful box, are three bundles of sticks. As I wrote, I drew one stick from each bundle and tried to include it in my story.
The first stick I drew was “The only way John could pass the exam was by cheating.” The second: “If you don’t take chances,” said the man in striped pajamas, “you might as well not be alive.” The third: “He was skating on thin ice – that’s all I can say.”
Here goes:
The only way John could pass the exam was by cheating. John was ashamed to be even be thinking of doing it. He had never had to cheat before, but his life had become quite chaotic and suddenly, he found that he didn’t have enough time for his studies. He was a junior in high school who got straight As, but now he felt like everything was falling apart.
It started last week (how could have it only be a week?, he constantly asked himself) when his father came home drunk for the third time in four days. John’s mother was in one of her moods and screamed at her husband until he left, the screen door slowly coming to a stop. The next day, John found his dad dead on their neighbor’s driveway. He had been driven over as the car rushed to work. The funeral was set for tomorrow, the day after this miserable exam.
The day that John saw the body and called 911 was frozen. It was the first day that John had missed in a year. He remembered a man in striped pajamas was there watching the body bag’s route to the ambulance. John asked the man who he was and the man turned to him with eyes that were turned inward and said, “If you don’t take chances, you might as well not be alive.”
His father’s funeral was set for tomorrow and he had to pass this stupid test. He thought of the strange man’s words and thought that whatever he did with this exam was a chance. But if he cheated, he might have a bigger chance of getting a better score. He tried to see the paper of Samantha Goldstein, who sat on his right and who he had an on and off crush on for years. The first question asked who Henry VIII’s first wife was. John was pretty sure it was Catherine of Aragon, but Samantha had selected Anne Boleyn and now he wasn’t sure.
He considered the man’s words again, closed his eyes, and picked the first answer his pencil alighted on. Well, he thought. At least I’m not a cheater. He looked through the rest of the test. There were a couple answers that he knew right away, but on the rest he executed the eyes-closed-pick method. He was skating on thin ice, he was sure, but he did it anyway. His life had changed and so had he.