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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1186674
A short, comprehensive retelling of the horrors of Math Class.
Falling off the Math Cliff


It’s the beginning of the school year, and the start of a new math class. Compared to Geometry, how hard can Algebra 2 really be? The student sits there, crisp sheets of paper in a new binder, pencil honed to a fine point, waiting to be used. And then the Teacher walks in, a robust and commanding presence. But the student is not intimidated, not yet. No, they sit there, eagerly awaiting the moment when the class begins. To look at this picture, you might think that nothing could possibly go wrong, right? Well, the fates have something else planned, for this child has just become the next cosmic joke.

For the first week, it seems like a breeze, an easy A. Simple review, and where their peers are struggling with even that, the student is completing the assignments with ease. All is right with their world, and there seems to be no shadows to mar their future.

Then comes week 2. Week 2 begins with new material, basic, but a bit of a challenge to the eager student who still sits in the front row when others hide in the back of the room. The student keeps their eye focused on the goal, and continues to do well in the class, their grade not yet slipping.

Week 3 comes. And with it, more challenges that our bright eyed young friend must face. Long hours spent at home, struggling to comprehend this new material that the teacher handed out. The teacher is one that we all know well. The teacher that you love to hate when you are in their class, and sometimes even after. The kind that, because it is easier for them, simply gives notes all class. Pages upon pages of notes. And very little application of those notes before handing out the latest homework assignment. Our chipper student, who cannot possibly fail (right?), sits at home hoping that this is the worst of it. Really, how could math POSSIBLY get any worse?

Then it happened. Week 4. After struggling through the week, our worn out friend sits down to their desk on Friday, to the weekly test. For the first time in their life, they struggle through it with their peers, barely handing it in by the bell. Little does our much beloved hero know that, on Monday, they will be handed the first C of their scholastic career.

Week 5 finds our friend in the middle row of the class, and a little slower to have their supplies on their desk when the now reviled teacher walks to the front of the room. Every night has found our friend slaving over their desk, struggling to understand the work set before them by that hated teacher. Come Friday, our little friend is back in the front of the class, ready for that test. After struggling through it, they hand it in, hoping and praying for at least an A-. But if our friend had listened just a little harder, they might have heard the sound of fate blowing a nice, long, robust raspberry behind them. But how could they know that?

On the Monday of week 6, our now flagging friend learns the truth. The test of the week before, they made a B-. But hey, its better, right? Our friend continues to sit on the front row, while the wicked little Fates snicker over their shoulder, awaiting their forgone demise.

Week 7. Finally, a breakthrough! Instead of 3 hours a night spent on their homework, our little friend only spends 1 hour at their desk. And in class, their materials are out and waiting when that evil creature walks through the door and starts the class. Our friend even manages to make an A on that weekly test, and everything is right in their world.

Week 8 is much the same. At least, until Wednesday. Then, they start to struggle. But they don’t worry overly much, because what could possibly go wrong, now that they finally understand this? Our now anxious Fates are giggling behind their hands as they await this child’s destined failure.

Week 9. The cycle has started all over again, and our terrified friend can do nothing to stop it. Struggle as they may, through the entire week of review for midterms, our now lackluster friend fails to comprehend the formulas. As the week progresses, the student gradually moves to the back of the room, to join their peers who gave up long before they did.

Midterms. With the fates who have followed us though this sad little tale rolling on the floor in raucous laughter, our now beaten student sits down to their test. And proceeds to draw a blank on every question they attempt. Accepting their defeat, much to the twisted fates delight, out student hands in their test. And at the end of the day, goes home to collapse in their bed, the weight of their failure making them weary.

And yet, there is still a whole other quarter to struggle though.

© Copyright 2006 Daiyanna Grae (daiyannagrae at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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