Homework Hitman
I heard her shift in the chair behind me. Cold sweat broke from my brow as I poured all of my concentration into my screen, where a half-done essay was staring me in the face. What the fuck did I get myself into?
It all started a few days ago. I opened up the group chat I have with my friends and noticed how everyone was doing exactly what I was doing: procrastinating on schoolwork. I connected to the voice chat.
“Dude, this assignment is due in 3 days, but I still haven’t started on it.”
“Yeah, I’ve got this test tomorrow too. Haven’t studied, of course.”
“Hah, I have this essay I haven’t worked on for 6 months! I just can’t find the motivation to do it.”
“You know what would probably help? Like if I hired a hitman to kill me if I stopped working on my assignments and picked up my phone.”
Laughter.
“Yeah, like if you take just one look at it, POW.”
“It might actually be cool if someone watched me while I did my homework. Might keep me from being distracted, really.”
“A creepy someone behind your shoulder to make sure you get shit done? Where do I sign up?”
Raucous laughter came through my headphones as I mulled over what we talked about. Maybe we were on to something.
As my friends began to talk of the games they played and the TV shows they watched, I considered how I could find someone like that who could help me beat procrastination. I left the call and began my search.
And that’s where I find myself today, with my very own homework hitman sitting right behind me. Yes, this dark presence existed to keep me focused on my work.
I slowly reached out for my glass of water, and heard a click behind me. Hurriedly, I withdrew my hand and started typing furiously.
“According to the article, mindfulness doesn’t have a clear operational definition. Moreover, it is possible that mindfulness studies are performed poorly, often lacking control groups…”
Just then, I heard a familiar beep, and picked up my phone out of habit.
Wait, fuck.
I quickly turned around. “ELLA, NO!”
I was immediately greeted by a barrage of bullets to the face. I ducked down as fast as I could and put my hands up as a shield, but she was simply relentless.
Soon, the assault stopped, and I stared at my sister in the eye. She was smiling at me in her smug, seven-year-old way as she brandished her Nerf Gun with relish.
“You said to shoot when you stopped working. So I did.” She grinned at me.
I exhaled audibly and shook my head. “Yes, yes, and you did well, Ella,” I said, as I brushed away the rubber darts on my seat and sat back down. “With all this fun you’re having, I shouldn’t even bother paying you.”
A couple of rounds bounced off the back of my head. “Yes, you do. You promised! Now get back to work.”
With a sigh, I set down my phone and got back to my essay.
–
Image source: deviantart.com/shadow-seraph/art/Girl-and-a-Gun-Two-14263150
First written January 18, 2018.
#109