tefnut: (Default)
[personal profile] tefnut
Contest 5, week 1: topic : SIN

This is part of a fanfiction I'm writing. I hope it's okay. This week's theme fits so well with the story I'm focusing on at the moment, I just wasn't able to write anything else.


White dust floated in the rays of light coming through the windows. It settled quietly on the rows of wooden desks, avoiding the only one that was occupied.

A scrawny little boy cranked his wrist, and added a letter to the word he was trying to write. William, willing himself not to switch his pen from the right hand to the left, tightened his grip on the edge of his exercise book, creasing the pages with his thumb. He uncrossed his legs, then crossed them again. Sweat trickled from the curly lock of hair straying on his forehead, down to the ridge of his glasses.

The teacher's voice boomed in his ear. "Pray tell, Pratt, what are you waiting for? Have you forgotten your lines?"

"No, Sir."

"Do tell."

William put his pen down, and looking straight at the blank blackboard, recited: "Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels."

"Show me your palm."

William swallowed in silence. He held his left hand flat, and fought to keep his eyes open, as surely any sign of fear or hesitation would condemn him to another paragraph to write.

"Everlasting fire. That's where you're heading to, if you keep using this wretched hand." The rod whisked, splitting Wiliam's palm in two with a red line. "Is that what you want?"

The cane stroke again.

"No, Sir. I'm sorry."

Palmer's moustache quivered. "You fiend." Hit. "Look at this." Hit. "Is that writing? I can't read it. Tell me the truth. Can you read it?"

"No, but..." William drew a breath. The last time he had explained how much writing with his right hand hurt -- and it hurt more than the cuts from the cane -- Palmer had made it worse. He had switched his slate with an exercise book, and his slate-pencil with a pen and an ink bottle. The cramps felt tighter and lasted longer.

"One more."

The little boy's sight blurred. He joined his hands in a prayer. "Sir, please, I'll be better. Please..."

"Will you stop begging? Evil, sinful creature!"

William bowed. He dunked the pen in the ink bottle, and started another letter, aiming to attach it to the former one, and missing by half an inch. The teacher grumbled. A lone tear fell on the boy's left hand.


Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.

September 2015

67891011 12

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios