Poetry With Me

Write a story with the line “I don’t understand.”

Posted in Short Story on May 9, 2025

https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts./

I could feel the tension in the room as soon as I walked in. The shivers went up my spine and there was an ache in my stomach.

The class was full, the sound of pencils scratching paper and the hum of the clock on the wall were the only sounds before I stormed in and interrupted the silence.

The Professor looked up from their computer and gestured for me to take a seat. Soaking wet, I took off my rain coat and tried not to shake it, tried not to make a noise, as I laid it in the nearest seat. Up here in the nose bleed section of the room I could only see the backs of everyone else’s heads. Their hair perfectly dry and not windblown like mine. I would have missed the rain if I had also been on time.

I sighed and then took a deep breath as I pulled out my paper and began. My own pencils scraping and then breaking it’s own lead. I slouched my shoulders in defeat and pushed back tears. How could I even try, even compete with all the other scholars in the room?

I took another breath and quietly looked for my sharpener. I looked around and met a few angry eyes, some gesturing for me to be quiet while others glanced and just looked away shaking their heads. The tension was strong, so strong I wanted to get up and leave.

My heart was racing and my head began to sweat. I want to vomit, to run, to cry, to scream.

Why am I trapped in this nightmare this dream?

A warm hand touched mine as I leaned over my desk trying to catch my breath.

Slowly I looked at the hand, it was smaller than mine, perfectly manicured and it seemed strange to be there on top of mine. I slowly looked between my strands of hair to meet the eyes of the owner of the hand.

She smiled. Bright green eyes and pink cheeks. She smelled like jasmine.

Curious I tried to smile back but it didn’t come out right. It was more of a grimace.

She didn’t mind.

She handed me a new pencil and some dry papers. Instructions that the exam had changed since yesterday. New anxiety creeped in. Was this a joke? How was I supposed to know more than what I had already spent all night studying for?

I wanted to get up and leave but her hand was there. Reassuring, warming me. I stopped shaking took a deep breath and nodded then began to read.

She took back her hand and pushed her hair behind her ear. Revealing a tattoo of a lotus flower and another hint of jasmine stayed in the air between us.

I tried not to look over. Tried to concentrate on what was in front of me but I’d never been shown such kindness. I’d never known softness and for someone to care.

How could someone who didn’t even know me, who was so much better than me in so many ways, choose to be kind?

Most people chose to ignore me or stare. They didn’t even bother talking about me just looking then looking away. But not her.

Not her.

I don’t understand. Why not her?

My eyes shifted back to the exam and suddenly it all made sense.

The lines on the page were no longer just lines but words. They strung along like a song. Easy to follow the beat.

I felt the confidence spur within me and sat up straighter to see.

The sounds of pencils and the clock seemed to dissipate in the background I could focus. For once, I could focus.

It felt a bit unreal. As if I was floating in a dream. No longer feeling the anxiety building inside of me it was like something calmed my sea.

My breath became steady and the hours of testing seemed to fly by.

Finally I felt like I belonged here. I was a scholar like all of those people around me. I was just as smart. I deserved to be there just like them.

Confidently I rose to take the exam down to the Professor who was nodding his approval at everyone lining up to turn it in. I stood there without a doubt I knew somehow that I was better now, that I was one of them.

The Professor looked at me with an approving look and took my paper from my hands. I smiled and walked to the right scanning the crowd for the one who smelled like jasmine.

There she was still scratching her pencil along the pages and focused on her own work. Somehow the room seemed larger and the stairs steeper as I climbed back to get my jacket and bag.

People were crowding the way and blocking my view but inside I knew that she had given me confidence and the ability to overcome my fears.

When I reached the top I searched for her but she was gone. The smell of jasmine still lingering in the air. I slipped my jacket on and felt a balled up piece of paper touch my fingers as I slid the new pencil into my pocket.

Slowly I uncrumpled it and read the scribbled print.

“Remember to take your medication when waking. 1 Pill every 24 hours as needed for hallucinations. May cause dizziness and vomiting. If this persists please call your doctor.”

I could feel my heart begin to race and my palms began to shake as panic creeped up my spine. Where is she? Was she real? A hallucination? Did I even take my medication. No, no, no, I don’t understand…

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Thank you to Reedsy.com for providing the prompt that inspired this short story.