Just to clear it up, the title of this short was not meant in an inappropriate manner. You dirty minded people...
I'm sitting up in my room on a cool April night trying to do homework.
It's hopeless.
I mean, who cares who shot Alexander Hamilton? Is that going to save someone when they are stranded in the middle of nowhere dying of thirst?
No, its not.
My paper is blank. I have ten questions to answer before I go to bed and I can't answer a single one of them.
I give up.
I toss my stuff aside and try to bring my brain back from wherever it went.
I bang my head on the wall.
It starts as a small thump, and then gradually escalates to a hard, severe crash on the wall.
Screw the fact that its an hour past midnight, I can't bloody make my mind work!
My door opens but I do not hear it.
"Marion?"
It's Jones. I turn around, probably looking like an utter IDIOT with the growing red mark on my forehead from the impact with the wall.
"What?" I ask, not meaning to sound irritable but doing so anyway.
"Are you umm...alright? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
I realize that I probably woke him up, seeing as his room is right below mine.
"Yeah, I just can't do my homework and my mind won't work." I say, pouting up at him.
"Well, try doing it in the morning. I always find that sleeps help my mind work." He says, pulling me up off my feet by my hands.
"Okay." I say, stifling a tremendous yawn.
"Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow." He says, walking out my door and nodding his head in my direction.
"Will do." I say, giving a feeble wave.
As he walks out, I throw myself onto my bed, banging my head rather sharply on my bed's headboard.
Ouch.
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