This very short piece is for a 2011 CBC writing competition where the requirement is not to exceed 250 words. The general theme provided by them is “Bad Behaviour in Adolescence.” Please note that the scenario is completely fictitious and that I have never murdered any of my teachers though the temptation may have been there on many an occasion - LOL.
Enjoy!
Dinshaw
Feb 12, 2011
------------------------------------------------------Finally! I exhaled a sigh of relief when I saw smoke wafting from the crematorium chimney. That nagging fear of being discovered through an autopsy had dogged me all week. Yet, had my classmates known me to be the cause of our math teacher’s sudden demise, I would have been hailed a hero.
I had no intention of killing Pumblechook – our nickname for him – and wanted only to make him sick enough to cancel the oral test. Though I had thoroughly memorized the thirteen times table, my stammering irritated him and when my answers did not come out as speedily as he wanted, the slaps and cuffs would rain down.
A few weeks earlier, I had read an article on the toxic nature of tobacco. It explained how swallowing only a bit of a liquidized nicotine concoction could make one immediately ill. With Pumblechook in mind, I followed their recipe and poured my potion into a tiny bottle.
On the fateful day as he entered our classroom, I started feeling pangs of anxiety. Suddenly he exited the room leaving behind his steaming coffee. Seeing the perfect opportunity, I sauntered past his desk pretending to use the trashcan, surreptitiously poured the contents from my bottle into the mug and was back at my seat before he returned.
Gulping his coffee, Pumblechook walked towards me and roared, “Boy, thirteen times thirteen?” Before I could utter a single syllable, he clenched his fist, gazed upwards and dropped dead.
