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JOHNSON!!! A Character Essay
Yup, the title says it all. An essay I wrote for school, nothing big ^^ Poke… Poke… Poke… “Johnson, stop touching me.” Poke. Poke. P- “Knock it off Johnson!!” “Dan, stop torturing the Jew,” Rockwell piped up from my side as I leaned over my art project, my eyebrows knitted together. On the other side of me was Dan Johnson. One of the most irritating Sophomores I had ever met. Dan grumbled something about me being a ‘n00b’, before he turned up the volume of his PSP, and began to fiddle with the supplies for my project. I could feel my eyes twitch as he collected the hundreds of paper dots I needed, and began flinging them across the table. “Dan!!!” I screamed, making a grab for the remainder of the little paper circles. It had taken me so long to get that many… “Dan Johnson, lave Brittney alone.” Ms. Ruch called from across the room, having heard my screams. It seemed the rest of the art class was used to Dan torturing me, because no one even bothered to look up. There were a few mumbles of ‘Dan, you’re a prick’ from the opposite side of the table, before things quieted down again. Dan only bothered me when things quieted down. The room was nice and peaceful for a few moments. All I could hear was the music coming from my headphones. I barely even noticed the slight tugging on the chord. Before I realized what was happening, the music in my ears was deafening, and I flinched, trying to rip out the ear-buds. Just as I managed to take one out, the music was soft again. I looked up, glaring daggers at Johnson. He scooted away, grinning innocently, holding my MP3 Player in his hand. “Give it back Johnson…” I growled, before lunging towards him, only to flinch back again as he blasted my already loud music. I was tearing at the headphones again, trying to get the other one out before my eardrums started to bleed. Dan snickered, and I snatched my precious MP3 Player back. He was such a pain!! I just wanted to punch him at the moment… Knock that big, innocent smile off his face. Johnson glanced down at his PSP once more; trying to shake his short, brown hair in front of his just-as-brown eyes. Wasn’t going to work… Slowly, I sunk back down on my stool, praying that the bell would ring and I would be set free from this constant torture. Just as I was about to place the next dot on my paper, that lovely (well, for the moment), chime of the bell was heard, and I practically jumped up, gathering all I could to put away. I was free from the torture… only to have to look forward to another day of it. |
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