Public Speaking

Speaking Sam was asked to make a speech for his schools new principal. He was nervous, and I mean sweaty palms, loss of words kind of nervous. He had never felt that way before, he always loved speaking, he answered questions in class, spoke at lunch, at dinner, in his dreams, he sometimes even spoke when he wasn't supposed to. There was absolutely no reason he should be nervous about this , but he was. As the big event drew near, Speaking Sam became more and more nervous, he began making bad grades; he stopped speaking in class, at lunch, at dinner, in his dreams, and even when he wasn't supposed to. His mother began to worry, "Husband?" she asked one night over dinner after Speaking Sam had excused himself, "I think something's wrong with Speaking Sam."

"Wife, darling, nothing is wrong with Speaking Sam, it's just nerves. It happens to everyone." Her husband replied, but she wasn't convinced. The night before the speech the subject came up again.

"Husband, I really don't think we should make Speaking Sam do the speech," she said, "he's stopped answering questions in class, speaking at lunch, dinner, or when he's not supposed to. Something is very wrong!"

She had expected something, anything, out of her husband, but he just said "hmph," and rolled over and turned out the light.

The following day Speaking Sam felt better than he had all week, he answered questions in class, spoke at lunch, and when he wasn't supposed to. He was feeling especially cheerful as he made his way up to the podium to begin his speech, but once he got there the nerves he'd had all week returned and worse than ever. He felt his stomach lurch and hot, thick bile fill his mouth. He felt his throat close, and his lungs lose the precious air he'd held so close. He felt his heart race, and fall short.

"Phew," Speaking Sam thought, "the worst is over."

He stood up to make his speech, but he noticed something was wrong, his mother and father were racing forward, the teachers were hovering around where he had fallen.

"Hey, guys, I'm alright!" he said, "I'm ready to make the speech."

The crowd parted and his breath caught short, or would have if he had any breath to catch. There he saw his motionless, pale, vomit covered body lying there. His mouth contorted in fear. His mother and father were weeping, and someone had yelled "call an ambulance," but Speaking Sam was numb, everyone sounded as if they were a hundred miles away, his vision blurred as he floated towards the ceiling.

The doctors say it was a heart attack, or a very bad seizure, they aren't sure. Speaking Sam's parents didn't want an autopsy, they just wanted to take him home. Even though there was no medical closure, they didn't need it. They knew that the one thing he truly loved had killed there only son. For the next few days no one answered questions in class, no one spoke at lunch, no one spoke at dinner, no one spoke in their dreams, and no one spoke when they weren't supposed to, until, halfway through third period.

"Hey," a small boy whispered to his classmate, "I'm Talking Timmy, why is everyone so quiet?"

Reviews

[Megan]

"Speaking Sam" & "Talking Timmy", I love their names! Very nicely done; I didn't expect the end there, though. Kind of dark and kind of twisted, I loved it!!

[kollaboratyve]

This is a very neat work. It get right to the heart of the matter. Continue to write down your thoughts,any time you have them. I sometimes awake out of the night and jot down ideas for poems and stories. Dreams are a good source of ideas. Keep writing!!!

[[untitled]]

uh huh. Well ok i thought it was funny. In fact it reminds me of something.
so i enjoyed it. A nice joke disquised as a parable. Very nicely pulled off.
J'esp�re vous voir autour. Nous devrions en parler. J'ai appr�ci� l'�criture beaucoup.