Time To Be Write

Medicine

A Study In Physical Injury

Comas

Medical Facts And Tips For Your Writing Needs

Broken Bones

Burns

Unconsciousness & Head Trauma

Blood Loss

Stab Wounds

Pain & Shock

All About Mechanical Injuries (Injuries Caused By Violence)

Writing Specific Characters

Portraying a kleptomaniac.

Playing a character with cancer.

How to portray a power driven character.

Playing the manipulative character.

Portraying a character with borderline personality disorder.

Playing a character with Orthorexia Nervosa.

Writing a character who lost someone important.

Playing the bullies.

Portraying the drug dealer.

Playing a rebellious character.

How to portray a sociopath.

How to write characters with PTSD.

Playing characters with memory loss.

Playing a pyromaniac.

How to write a mute character.

How to write a character with an OCD.

How to play a stoner.

Playing a character with an eating disorder.

Portraying a character who is anti-social.

Portraying a character who is depressed.

How to portray someone with dyslexia.

How to portray a character with bipolar disorder.

Portraying a character with severe depression.

How to play a serial killer.

Writing insane characters.

Playing a character under the influence of marijuana.

Tips on writing a drug addict.

How to write a character with HPD.

Writing a character with Nymphomania.

Writing a character with schizophrenia.

Writing a character with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Writing a character with depression.

Writing a character who suffers from night terrors.

Writing a character with paranoid personality disorder.

How to play a victim of rape.

How to play a mentally ill/insane character.

Writing a character who self-harms.

Writing a character who is high on amphetamines.

How to play the stalker.

How to portray a character high on cocaine.

Playing a character with ADHD.

How to play a sexual assault victim.

Writing a compulsive gambler.

Playing a character who is faking a disorder.

Playing a prisoner.

Portraying an emotionally detached character.

How to play a character with social anxiety.

Portraying a character who is high.

Portraying characters who have secrets.

Portraying a recovering alcoholic.

Portraying a sex addict.

How to play someone creepy.

Portraying sexually/emotionally abused characters.

Playing a character under the influence of drugs.

Playing a character who struggles with Bulimia.

Illegal Activity

Examining Mob Mentality

How Street Gangs Work

Domestic Abuse

Torture

Assault

Murder

Terrorism

Internet Fraud

Cyberwarfare

Computer Viruses

Corporate Crime

Political Corruption

Drug Trafficking

Human Trafficking

Sex Trafficking

Illegal Immigration

Contemporary Slavery 

Black Market Prices & Profits

AK-47 prices on the black market

Bribes

Computer Hackers and Online Fraud

Contract Killing

Exotic Animals

Fake Diplomas

Fake ID Cards, Passports and Other Identity Documents

Human Smuggling Fees

Human Traffickers Prices

Kidney and Organ Trafficking Prices

Prostitution Prices

Cocaine Prices

Ecstasy Pills Prices

Heroin Prices

Marijuana Prices

Meth Prices

Earnings From Illegal Jobs

Countries In Order Of Largest To Smallest Risk

Forensics

arson

Asphyxia

Blood Analysis

Book Review

Cause & Manner of Death

Chemistry/Physics

Computers/Cell Phones/Electronics

Cool & Odd-Mostly Odd

Corpse Identification

Corpse Location

Crime and Science Radio

crime lab

Crime Scene

Cults and Religions

DNA

Document Examination

Fingerprints/Patterned Evidence

Firearms Analysis

Forensic Anthropology

Forensic Art

Forensic Dentistry

Forensic History

Forensic Psychiatry

General Forensics

Guest Blogger

High Tech Forensics

Interesting Cases

Interesting Places

Interviews

Medical History

Medical Issues

Misc

Multiple Murderers

On This Day

Poisons & Drugs

Police Procedure

Q&A

serial killers

Space Program

Stupid Criminals

Theft

Time of Death

Toxicology

hello peeps did u miss me it’s ya boi wallpatterns back with another tale of misery tighten your seatbelts and grab your popcorn because today we’re going on a magic carpet ride

So the last time I talked about The Second Grade the story took place outside of the classroom (if you didn’t read it you probably don’t want to it was about flying feces) but boys and girls and gender neutral, non binary + today you’re in for a treat because this story takes place inside the literal prison known as

the c l a s s r o o m

So

The story begins with show and tell. I can’t remember what I brought to share with the class probably my pessimistic thoughts and my pre-pubescent angst but one girl in my class, we’ll call her Sharon, brought her mom’s famous holier-than-thou prized cactus

alright timeout for a second i need to say this is really weird because this story takes place in minnesota and there’s not just cacti chillin in the wild oKAY SO SEEING A REAL LIVE CACTUS WAS A HUGE DEAL FOR ME AND MY PEERS AND WE WERE ALL CAPTIVATED BY THIS BIG ASS CACTUS LIKE IT WAS THE HOLY SPIRIT HIMSELF okay timeout is over continuing on with the story

“Class” said my second grade teacher “this is a cactus”

“Oooohhhhh” said the class

“It is a rare cactus” said my teacher

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh” said the class

“Only 5 have been able to survive in mn” said my teacher or some other fact about how rare it is I don’t remember the fact my guilty conscience just remembers it was rare

“Ooohhhh” said my class

“Please be respectful” said my teacher

“I’m going to touch it” I thought

“Please remember this belongs to Sharon’s mom” said my teacher

“I’m going to touch it” I thought

“Don’t touch it” said my teacher

“I’m still going to touch it” I thought

And then my second grade teacher made a grievous error

She left the cactus on an empty desk for us to look at in our free time

Now I was a good child who always did my homework so I had a lot of free time too much free time honestly just look at how this story is going i have no impulse control

And eventually I made my way over to this cactus and let me tell you it was even more gorgeous in person

One more thing you should know before we go on is that when I was in second grade I thought I was a Disney princess

Well…not exactly

But I honest to God thought I had super powers

“What a nice little tiny baby cactus sprout next to this huge mother cactus” I thought “if I pet it’s baby cactus head it will grow into a beautiful adult cactus because it will have my magic cactus blessing”

Now by this time it was just me and Sharon by the cactus and I said to myself “Sharon u better not stop me from blessing this baby cactus or I stg we gonna fight” but of course I didn’t say any of that aloud because I didn’t want her to cue in on my magic cactus plan

Instead I just reached out and touched the fucking baby cactus

Which

Small oopsie on my part

Turns out

I did not have magic cactus growing powers

Turns out

By touching this lil guy I killed him because the dude lifted out of the ground and stayed attached to my hand until I shoved my finger back in the dirt and like

Replanted the little guy

All was well but too late because protective cactus mother Sharon saw me and she decided i had been on the planet long enough and it was my time to die

Spoiler alert, I realized: Sharon is a lil shit

Have u ever seen an angry cactus loving 8 year old turn 50 shades of red and purple

I have

I do not wish to see it again

Instantly my eyes watered and my tear ducts were holding on for dear life because I didn’t want to cry but also i have a sixth sense that knows when I’m about to die and let me tell u it was going haywire and in this moment I knew the end was near

“it’s still alive” I blurted out. “Look he’s in the dirt and he’s happy”

Sharon and I looked at him

I mean

To be fair

He was still in the dirt

He was just a little bit lopsided

Sharon leaned in closer and I gulped

“Ur going to pay” 8 year old sharon said

Did I mention this was the day I received my first death threat Jesus Christ wallpatterns yes it’s in the title this is ridiculous click bait you’ll go to hell for this

But anyway sometimes God likes me and he decided to throw me a bone because then my teacher announced it was time to sit back down and learn about Australia we had two guest speakers come into our room almost everyday and talk about that place like I’m not even sure why

So we sat back down and thank the loRD SHARON’S DESK WAS NOT NEXT TO MINE and anyway we all started coloring in our Australia coloring packets because we had those

All was well, I thought, except I was still reeling because Sharon was the kind of kid who stole people’s hearing aids and pretended she was deaf like this kid is was crazy and I put myself on her second grade hit list

But i tried to put my impending doom out of my brain and instead thought happy thoughts about Australia and kangaroos and that one weird thing they put on toast I can’t remember what it’s called im sorry Australia tumblr help me wait nO MARMITE IS THAT WHAT IT IS i think it’s marmite (edit: australian tumblr told me it’s vegemite)

So by that time it’s almost out of my head because im focusing too hard on marmite vegemite and things we’re going good until sharon got up to sharpen her pencil so she could stab me with it

I remembered then that when ur out in the wild and u see a brown bear ur supposed to play dead so he leaves u alone and I decide then that sharon is the bear and im just not gonna make eye contact and probably avoid her for the rest of my second grade life

Unfortunately this plan did not work because as she passed my desk on her way back

This second grade child

This 8 year old l i l s h i t

Whispered in my ear hey little mama “you murderer”

And now fetus me is freaking out because this had not occurred to me yet but holy fuck she’s right. I killed a plant. Not just any old plant but a baby plant. I’m a monster. A child killer. The kind of person who gets locked up forever

Killing a plant + plants are living creatures = I killed a living t h i n g

Now sharon either had terrible color pencils probably roseart or she was into psychological torture at a young age because every five seconds she made her way to that sharpener and on her way back she taunted me

Murderer

Killer

Ill kill u

Devil

Baby plant silencer

U name it I was the certified cactus killer of second grade

I start silently crying onto my coloring book because the guilt is too much

My tears make another lake in Australia

This lake is going to be called “My hopes and dreams” I think to myself before scribbling over it in red, because now that I’m going to jail they’re dead

Fetus me sniffles. How am I going to tell my mom I’m a murderer she’ll never cook me chicken nuggets ever again and I’ll starve to death but maybe I deserve it because I’m a cold blooded killer

Oh, a thought passes through my child brain, this is what the class counselor meant when he said thoughts can spiral

Where’s that guy when a kid needs him, dude, because I am spiralling out of this kid sized desk

Sharon pretends to sharpen her pencil again and I brace myself for her next attack

“I’m going to tell on you” she whispers

I imagine the mother cactus stabbing me through the heart before wilting from its grief

Look

I can face a lot of things

I’m a tough k i d no I’m not I’m sobbing

But the one thing that I can’t face

The most terrible horrible no good fate

Is being told on

Everyone knows that’s a plank you don’t wanna walk out on

I am crippled with fear

Mrs. 2nd Grade Teacher keeps glancing at me because she knows i have strange thoughts and she doesn’t even want to know but it’s her job and she’ll have to deal with me eventually sorry mrs carlson it was real

“I wish I didn’t murder that cactus” I think

“I wish I wasn’t a teacher” mrs. 2nd Grade Teacher thinks

“I wish I was deaf so I could stop stealing hearing aids” Sharon thinks

so i tighten the hold on my guilt and by the time that bell rings I am out of there faster than I would be if there was a buffet table yes that’s fast I know because I was too young to go to jail and that’s what was gonna happen once sharon told and I know these things because I watch t.v.

That night I savour my last non-prison meal and I stare myself down in the mirror

Ur gonna survive jail I tell myself, but it sounds fake to my ears

My mom notices something is broken inside fetus me and I unload my terrible murder confession to her through my sobs

“Okay but why did u touch a cactus” she asks

I sob harder

“Because I really liked that cactus, mom”

“And I thought maybe he would like me too”

talking with you: 💖💓💗💞 💖💓💗💞💕💘💕💞💗💓💖 💕💘💕💞💗💓💖

me loving you: 💖💓💗 💖💓💗💞💕💘💕💞💗💓💖 💞💕💘💕💞💗💓💖

talking with you: 💖💓💗💞 💖💓💗💞💕💘💕💞💗💓💖 💕💘💕💞💗💓💖

me loving you: 💖💓💗 💖💓💗💞💕💘💕💞💗💓💖 💞💕💘💕💞💗💓💖

G u y s

Buckle your seat belts, let me tell you a lil story about how I accidentally almost half-way sort of maybe kind of committed arson

The story takes place when I was a senior in high school (which was, uh, maybe a couple months ago but you know what, time flies when you’re the school’s appointed pyromaniac)

Now as you kids know, school is a stressful time. Especially when you’re a senior. They make you do all that senior stuff. “You’re the leaders of the place” they say as I can’t even microwave burritos without them being frozen in the middle but that’s a story for another time

It was awards day.

My last awards day.

(If your school doesn’t/didn’t have awards day it’s this thing where teachers hand out certificates for being smart or athletic or the most impressive feat of all: perfect attendance)

It was also, coincedentally, the day the NHS induction ceremony was supposed to take place. NHS stands for National Honor Society and is basically a cult for smart people. Believe it or not I was a part of this fancy smart people cult. Not sure how, but I weaseled my way in and held on to that title with my cold, clammy hands for all of high school. Wallpatterns is a nerd and that’s all you need to know

Also at this time I had a pinched nerve or something idk in my leg and I had a really bad limp. Picture a zombie shuffling and that’s how I was walking buT I STILL SHOWED UP BECAUSE EVEN THO I WAS IN PAIN YA GIRL IS DEPENDABLE (until I almost burned my school down but we’re getting there)

NOW since I was a senior that meant I had to be a part of the induction ceremony, which alright, okay, sure, make the crippled kid do it, what could possibly go wrong, am I right?

There was a couple of us seniors in NHS and the ceremony was supposed to go like this:

NHS president: yoyoyo thnx for showing up lol now let me light this candle representing the fire of life and here’s my speech let me call my main homie up next to talk

NHS senior: let me light the candle of knowledge using the flame from the candle of life and then say another speech

And so forth and so forth. There was idk I think 5 candles all representing different things to dedicate our lives to (knowledge, service, scholarship, leadership, character) because this is a cult for smart people and we do that

After all the candles are lit the inductees are each given a candle that they then light using one of the earlier mentioned candles (knowledge, service, leadership, character) and then they chant some stuff (because again, cult)

It’s a little fuzzy because your girl fucked up.

So. Awards day happens. The auditorium is packed. Everyone in the school is there. Kids are joking. Someone screams. It’s public school. Maybe someone’s being murdered. Maybe they wanna go home. No one really knows.

But it’s all going great. All the candles are lit except for me and one other girl’s. I’m on the edge of my seat. I prepared what I’m going to say and I’m r e a d y

Mr. NHS president calls me up and I walk hobble to the table. I light my candle with the holy flame of life. I insert it into the candle holder.

It doesn’t fit.

Alright, wallpatterns, don’t sweat it. Firmly grasp the candle. Twist it into that candle holder. Show it who’s boss

It fits. Snug, but it’s in there.

I slowly back away.

I put my hands up, as one does, to command inanimate objects to stay inanimate

All is good in the world

My grades are great, my skin is clear, just one more speech and I’m done

I hobble across the stage to the podium. I begin my speech. It was a paragraph full of fancy words and some really nice quotes but it can be summarised as:

“You should volunteer and uh, do volunteer stuff maybe idk you do you”

My speech is halfway done.

I was nervous. I was sweating. I was almost in the clear. You know, I thought, maybe speeches aren’t that ba-

THUD.

There’s a collective gasp. Like one that only happens in movies. Everyone’s eyes go wide. Everything is silent. I’m afraid to look but I turn my head anyway.

My candle

My lit

Flaming

On fire

Candle

Fell onto the table.

Smoke rose from the candle like little tiny smoke waves

“Hello,” my candle seemed to say. “You thought you were doing good but lmao you thought wRONG”

A small little circle of tablecloth is singed.

No one moves.

I look at fellow senior and NHS president in panic.

“Do something” my eyes plead. “You’re president”

“It’s your candle” his eyes say back

I do math calculations in my head like that one meme

“But I have a limp”

Somewhere during this I realize if the school burns down I’m the slowest one here and I’m probably going to die

10 seconds of silence has passed

Like in any other tragedy, people are snapchatting

My principal looks like she wants to kill someone

It occurs to me that as the slowest and the lighter of the candle that would probably mean I’m going to die again

“PICK IT UP” Someone from the audience screams in terror

My good friend Mr. NHS president finally bolts into action

Have you even seen a man run towards a burning candle

I have

Let me tell you

It was surprisingly anticlimatic

And best of all? We had monthly (maybe biweekly?) walks to the public library.

Don’t get me wrong- the school library was fine and dandy, but there’s only so many times a kid can read Angelina Ballerina before her eyes start to bleed and her skin turns grey. I had reread that series so many times I was beginning to question if I, myself, was turning into a mouse because of it (The answer is yes, I loved cheese so I totally was).

The deal was made even sweeter because you know what a walk across town entails? Chaperones. And who was chaperoning these walks?

That’s right. My mother. Otherwise known as the original g. Capital “H” Homie. My main. The reason I’m alive. The only person who enjoys my bs. Mrs. “Did you eat anything today, Wallpatterns?”

If you can’t tell, I love my mom, but alas, this story is not about her. It’s about pure unadulterated fear. The kind that can’t be described (but I’m going to describe it anyway so buckle in.)

These walks took place in the morning and consisted of us walking single file there and back (remember this formation because it’s important.)

I had a small class. At this time it was somewhere between 16-18 kids. We all knew each other, some more than others. And likewise, by the time we graduated to third grade, we all knew how to duck.

And why, you ask, were we all so good at ducking?

Because, my dear friend, of shit wars.

It all started with two boys in my class. We’ll call them Nik and Nick in this story because they actually had the same name (that’s how you know it was fate) but with alternative spelling and also I don’t want to use their real names because reasons.

Shit wars was the kind of thing nightmares are born from. The predecessor of all things that go bump in the night. You think the kids of Derry had issues having to deal with Stephen King’s It? They never had to be battle ready. They never had to go to war. Not with this. No, never with this.

So. Library time. Off we go to the races. Lalala sunshine, rainbows, and butterflies. My mom is by my side. We’re gonna get books.

I am t h r i v i n g.

Or at least, I was, before Nik or Nick picked up a dog turd off the sidewalk.

Until I witnessed the graceful arc of a flying poop pellet unfold itself mid-air, small gray pieces flying from it in layers like a sad football.

Until the screams started.

Until war began.  

There’s a sort of haze that settles in moments like these. A fuzzy little filter that falls over everyone like rain. The same dream-like trance that makes it impossible to look away from tragedy.

The same thing that made it impossible for Nik or Nick to move away.

When the flying poop pellet hit Nik or Nick’s back, that moment was broken. Screams rang out.

“My hair!” Someone yelled.

“It touched me!” Another joined in.

My peers, witnessing what would happen if you remained inactive, jolted to action. We zigzagged, running into each other haphazardly. We pushed and pulled and fought our way through valiantly.

But not Nik or Nick.

No, he threw one back.

Once again we stood silent and captivated by the soaring dung bomb. This time it spun through the air majestically. Sunlight glinted off it like a sign from God. A curve ball.

There’s something impressive and yet oddly motivational about a piece of dog shit reaching for the stars.

It hit, with a harsh thud, the other Nik or Nick and left a dull brown smear on his shirt.

Thus was the start of Holy Shit Wars.

“Children!” Mrs. Second Grade Teacher screamed. “Stay in formation!”

“No thanks,” we all collectively thought. “Standing targets are just asking to be hit with stinky shrapnel.”

Once again, someone screamed. Mrs. Second Grade Teacher lunged for Nik or Nick, but he darted onto the road.

"NO” A chaperone yelled despite the fact that there weren’t any cars. “NOT TRAFFIC”

Nik or Nick didn’t care. He darted along the road before he spotted another gem along the sidewalk. Armed with another dog turd, he pulled his arm back.

"Aw, man,” He relished in his newfound hobby. “This one is fresh.”

The other Nik or Nick stood at the other end of the line and laughed. The formation we were once again forced to be a part of tittered nervously.

With a grunt and a lunge, the poop pellet flew over our (admittedly very short) heads. It occurred to me almost too late that I was at the end of the line. Directly in front of the other Nik or Nick.

Fear crawled up my throat and kissed my back teeth. This was it. I looked at my mom for what may in fact be the last time.

"Goodbye,” I thought. “Remember to turn in my books so my ghost won’t have a fine.”

And with that, I clenched by eyes closed and I ducked.

Have you ever felt the breeze caused by a soaring dog turd tickle your hair

Have you ever been witness to the nose hair searing scent of whatever it is random dog’s eat

Have you ever had a life defining moment

For a split second I ascend mortality and bear witness to the meaning of life

As quick as it happens it is over

Nik or Nick sidesteps the bullet

They are separated and each marched beside a guard  (ha my mom had to walk with one speaking of my mom 2nd grade was the last year she chaperoned) (probably because of shit wars come to think of it)

The day’s battle is over, but the war is not

Every library walk

A new battle begins

Shit wars was fought by Nik and Nick every walk

Many innocent bystanders lost their lives in the process

We were never the same again

The End

G u y s

Buckle your seat belts, let me tell you a lil story about how I accidentally almost half-way sort of maybe kind of committed arson

The story takes place when I was a senior in high school (which was, uh, maybe a couple months ago but you know what, time flies when you’re the school’s appointed pyromaniac)

Now as you kids know, school is a stressful time. Especially when you’re a senior. They make you do all that senior stuff. “You’re the leaders of the place” they say as I can’t even microwave burritos without them being frozen in the middle but that’s a story for another time

It was awards day.

My last awards day.

(If your school doesn’t/didn’t have awards day it’s this thing where teachers hand out certificates for being smart or athletic or the most impressive feat of all: perfect attendance)

It was also, coincedentally, the day the NHS induction ceremony was supposed to take place. NHS stands for National Honor Society and is basically a cult for smart people. Believe it or not I was a part of this fancy smart people cult. Not sure how, but I weaseled my way in and held on to that title with my cold, clammy hands for all of high school. Wallpatterns is a nerd and that’s all you need to know

Also at this time I had a pinched nerve or something idk in my leg and I had a really bad limp. Picture a zombie shuffling and that’s how I was walking buT I STILL SHOWED UP BECAUSE EVEN THO I WAS IN PAIN YA GIRL IS DEPENDABLE (until I almost burned my school down but we’re getting there)

NOW since I was a senior that meant I had to be a part of the induction ceremony, which alright, okay, sure, make the crippled kid do it, what could possibly go wrong, am I right?

There was a couple of us seniors in NHS and the ceremony was supposed to go like this:

NHS president: yoyoyo thnx for showing up lol now let me light this candle representing the fire of life and here’s my speech let me call my main homie up next to talk

NHS senior: let me light the candle of knowledge using the flame from the candle of life and then say another speech

And so forth and so forth. There was idk I think 5 candles all representing different things to dedicate our lives to (knowledge, service, scholarship, leadership, character) because this is a cult for smart people and we do that

After all the candles are lit the inductees are each given a candle that they then light using one of the earlier mentioned candles (knowledge, service, leadership, character) and then they chant some stuff (because again, cult)

It’s a little fuzzy because your girl fucked up.

So. Awards day happens. The auditorium is packed. Everyone in the school is there. Kids are joking. Someone screams. It’s public school. Maybe someone’s being murdered. Maybe they wanna go home. No one really knows.

But it’s all going great. All the candles are lit except for me and one other girl’s. I’m on the edge of my seat. I prepared what I’m going to say and I’m r e a d y

Mr. NHS president calls me up and I walk hobble to the table. I light my candle with the holy flame of life. I insert it into the candle holder.

It doesn’t fit.

Alright, wallpatterns, don’t sweat it. Firmly grasp the candle. Twist it into that candle holder. Show it who’s boss

It fits. Snug, but it’s in there.

I slowly back away.

I put my hands up, as one does, to command inanimate objects to stay inanimate

All is good in the world

My grades are great, my skin is clear, just one more speech and I’m done

I hobble across the stage to the podium. I begin my speech. It was a paragraph full of fancy words and some really nice quotes but it can be summarised as:

“You should volunteer and uh, do volunteer stuff maybe idk you do you”

My speech is halfway done.

I was nervous. I was sweating. I was almost in the clear. You know, I thought, maybe speeches aren’t that ba-

THUD.

There’s a collective gasp. Like one that only happens in movies. Everyone’s eyes go wide. Everything is silent. I’m afraid to look but I turn my head anyway.

My candle

My lit

Flaming

On fire

Candle

Fell onto the table.

Smoke rose from the candle like little tiny smoke waves

“Hello,” my candle seemed to say. “You thought you were doing good but lmao you thought wRONG”

A small little circle of tablecloth is singed.

No one moves.

I look at fellow senior and NHS president in panic.

“Do something” my eyes plead. “You’re president”

“It’s your candle” his eyes say back

I do math calculations in my head like that one meme

“But I have a limp”

Somewhere during this I realize if the school burns down I’m the slowest one here and I’m probably going to die

10 seconds of silence has passed

Like in any other tragedy, people are snapchatting

My principal looks like she wants to kill someone

It occurs to me that as the slowest and the lighter of the candle that would probably mean I’m going to die again

“PICK IT UP” Someone from the audience screams in terror

My good friend Mr. NHS president finally bolts into action

Have you even seen a man run towards a burning candle

I have

Let me tell you

It was surprisingly anticlimatic

G u y s

Buckle your seat belts, let me tell you a lil story about how I accidentally almost half-way sort of maybe kind of committed arson

The story takes place when I was a senior in high school (which was, uh, maybe a couple months ago but you know what, time flies when you’re the school’s appointed pyromaniac)

Now as you kids know, school is a stressful time. Especially when you’re a senior. They make you do all that senior stuff. “You’re the leaders of the place” they say as I can’t even microwave burritos without them being frozen in the middle but that’s a story for another time

It was awards day.

My last awards day.

(If your school doesn’t/didn’t have awards day it’s this thing where teachers hand out certificates for being smart or athletic or the most impressive feat of all: perfect attendance)

It was also, coincedentally, the day the NHS induction ceremony was supposed to take place. NHS stands for National Honor Society and is basically a cult for smart people. Believe it or not I was a part of this fancy smart people cult. Not sure how, but I weaseled my way in and held on to that title with my cold, clammy hands for all of high school. Wallpatterns is a nerd and that’s all you need to know

Also at this time I had a pinched nerve or something idk in my leg and I had a really bad limp. Picture a zombie shuffling and that’s how I was walking buT I STILL SHOWED UP BECAUSE EVEN THO I WAS IN PAIN YA GIRL IS DEPENDABLE (until I almost burned my school down but we’re getting there)

NOW since I was a senior that meant I had to be a part of the induction ceremony, which alright, okay, sure, make the crippled kid do it, what could possibly go wrong, am I right?

There was a couple of us seniors in NHS and the ceremony was supposed to go like this:

NHS president: yoyoyo thnx for showing up lol now let me light this candle representing the fire of life and here’s my speech let me call my main homie up next to talk

NHS senior: let me light the candle of knowledge using the flame from the candle of life and then say another speech

And so forth and so forth. There was idk I think 5 candles all representing different things to dedicate our lives to (knowledge, service, scholarship, leadership, character) because this is a cult for smart people and we do that

After all the candles are lit the inductees are each given a candle that they then light using one of the earlier mentioned candles (knowledge, service, leadership, character) and then they chant some stuff (because again, cult)

It’s a little fuzzy because your girl fucked up.

So. Awards day happens. The auditorium is packed. Everyone in the school is there. Kids are joking. Someone screams. It’s public school. Maybe someone’s being murdered. Maybe they wanna go home. No one really knows.

But it’s all going great. All the candles are lit except for me and one other girl’s. I’m on the edge of my seat. I prepared what I’m going to say and I’m r e a d y

Mr. NHS president calls me up and I walk hobble to the table. I light my candle with the holy flame of life. I insert it into the candle holder.

It doesn’t fit.

Alright, wallpatterns, don’t sweat it. Firmly grasp the candle. Twist it into that candle holder. Show it who’s boss

It fits. Snug, but it’s in there.

I slowly back away.

I put my hands up, as one does, to command inanimate objects to stay inanimate

All is good in the world

My grades are great, my skin is clear, just one more speech and I’m done

I hobble across the stage to the podium. I begin my speech. It was a paragraph full of fancy words and some really nice quotes but it can be summarised as:

“You should volunteer and uh, do volunteer stuff maybe idk you do you”

My speech is halfway done.

I was nervous. I was sweating. I was almost in the clear. You know, I thought, maybe speeches aren’t that ba-

THUD.

There’s a collective gasp. Like one that only happens in movies. Everyone’s eyes go wide. Everything is silent. I’m afraid to look but I turn my head anyway.

My candle

My lit

Flaming

On fire

Candle

Fell onto the table.

Smoke rose from the candle like little tiny smoke waves

“Hello,” my candle seemed to say. “You thought you were doing good but lmao you thought wRONG”

A small little circle of tablecloth is singed.

No one moves.

I look at fellow senior and NHS president in panic.

“Do something” my eyes plead. “You’re president”

“It’s your candle” his eyes say back

I do math calculations in my head like that one meme

“But I have a limp”

Somewhere during this I realize if the school burns down I’m the slowest one here and I’m probably going to die

10 seconds of silence has passed

Like in any other tragedy, people are snapchatting

My principal looks like she wants to kill someone

It occurs to me that as the slowest and the lighter of the candle that would probably mean I’m going to die again

“PICK IT UP” Someone from the audience screams in terror

My good friend Mr. NHS president finally bolts into action

Have you even seen a man run towards a burning candle

I have

Let me tell you

It was surprisingly anticlimatic