Competition

First Prize

The Math Final
by Haley Songchild

Drizzly, I cannot see the rain.
Wood surrounds me.
Artificial light clouds my vision.
Pale colours blur my senses.
I am here, yet vaguely.
I barely notice how I function.
I barely function at all.
I do not like functions.
Numbers on the page.
Signs and letters.
All I hear is the footsteps of people
on the stairs.
I hit “enter”, and my calculator
spits out a number.
The wrong number, I notice.
I grind my teeth and
look around the room.
It is silent, yet so loud.
Frustration leaking from minds.
Thoughts saying, “I thought I knew
how to do this.”
I hit “clear”.
I read the question again.
It is hard for me to focus.
I am drifting again.
It is ten years later and I have
forgotten.
A past memory that does not
matter.
I jolt back to the numbers.
I remember that “t” has to equal
zero.
I sigh in relief.
The population is 2000
in the beginning.
I once again punch in the numbers
and hit “enter”.
(Click)
The population will triple in 40
years.
The year will be 2037,
The population 6000 people.
I look it up.
I am drifting again.
I am in the chicken coop.
It is hailing.
The baby chicks are chirping.
We get them inside.
We are safe.
My eyes run down the page.
I start to read the next problem.
This one involves a fence.
I am back at the farm.
Big posts stick up around the garden.
If we had 200 feet of fencing,
and one side already built,
what will the length and width be
so that we could have the maximum
area?
We want the blueberries included.
We have to keep the deer out,
or they will eat them.
I finish the problem.
I know it.
I’ve known it for days.
I’ve practiced it.
It comes easy.
I flip the page.
I read the words at the bottom.
“End of Test.”
I look up.
I have an hour.
It grows loud.
Not with voices,
but with thoughts.
I relax.
The thoughts don’t bother me.
I know we all did well.
I fade away again.
I know I will never have to set foot
in this room again.
I can forget the functions,
and I can go on with what I want to do.
No more math for me.