Octagonal Madness ..............................Nic Ball

Fruit by the Fire | Nic Ball | oil on canvas | 10 x 14 in.

Woodberry Forest School 115

IT STARED BACK

fction by Carter Harrell

Te tips of my fngers are red. Relax. I shake my hand and then stretch my arms backward.

Too many bones crack. Te tabletop looks depressing: empty wrappers, blunted pencils, dunes of eraser shavings, and my new “college” ruled notebook. College. Tat’s why I’ve banished myself to the library.

What inspires me? I rip out the most recent page. “My coach inspires me because…” Nope, defnitely not that. I take one last look at the scribbled words, crumple the paper, and wipe my hands on my sweats. How am I even sweaty? I toss the globbed failure towards the trash can. No swish. Whatever.

I return to the conundrum. My… grandma inspires me because… she is always… always… standing up for herself. I tear out the next ofering for the trash can. Tat’s cheesy and stupid.

“Maybe you can make it this time,” a quiet voice mumbles behind me.

I jolt around. Te dark room looks empty. It isn’t my phone. Mom has it. No one else should be in the building except for the dusty librarian downstairs and maybe a stoned janitor. A ghost?

“Hello?” I ask the nothingness.

“Helllllo,” the darkness calls back.

I shine the desk lamp toward the gravelly voice. Te yellow light casts shadows on the paintings of dead academics and ancient furniture.

“You’re a failure.”

“What? Who are you?” Te trash can?

“Come over here!” the voice barks.

Te black plastic bucket stands out in the antique room. My shadow gets smaller as I walk farther from the light. Something feels wrong.

Te trash can speaks in a clearer tone.“You’ve been here for three hours, and you’ve missed twen-

116 Te Talon 2022