#blankgothic

[kess333]

High School Test Gothic

The desks are all separated. Someone is sitting in your normal spot. You sit as close as you can to it.

The whiteboard is blank, except for instructions scrawled in black marker: “No phones. No headphones. No music. No talking. You will have the entire period. You will have the entire century. You will have no time at all.”

You stare at the multiple choice. The multiple choice stares back.

It is silent. The silence is too loud. You want the silence to stop. “No music.” Glares at you from the board.

You are only allowed to write in pen. You do not want to know what happens if you do not.

The teacher walks through the isles. You swear they are right behind you. They are across the room.

You ask the teacher what this question means. “I can’t tell you that.” You ask for the definition of a different question. “I can’t tell you that.” You ask if you are real. “I can’t tell you that.” You no longer ask questions.

The sound of footsteps gets nearer as somebody a few rows behind you stands up. They put their test on your teachers desk. You thought you had more time.

You hand your test in. The teacher only looks at you when you hand it to them. You sit back down. You must sit in silence. You must obey the rules.

The person beside you is already done. They turn to you. You both begin to whisper. The teacher shushes you. You cannot help but feel you have done something wrong…

You ask your friends what they got for question five. One says A. Another says B. The other two say C and D. They ask you what you got. You cannot tell them your answer. Your answer was not an option.

[crazythatcounts]

Restaurant Gothic

- There’s a building on the corner that has changed its theme once a month, every month, for as long as you can remember. You can’t ever remember what it was when it started - you can barely remember what it was last month. Was it Asian? Mediterranean? All you know is, every month, you insist you’ll try it and never end up doing so. You don’t question why.

- You go on and on that the usual Chinese Takeout you get is iffy. It could be better, you tell your friends, it’s not that great. But you always continue to order more, and you never complain, not really. You honestly complained about the last place you frequented, and after a week it vanished, leaving behind a high-end Japanese Steakhouse that you can’t afford. It’s not worth it, you tell yourself, it’s not worth it.

- You wake up at Denny’s at four in the morning, groggy and upset. You check your GPS on your phone, and it screams at you shrilly instead of giving you a location. You need to stop ending up in Denny’s. You don’t even like pancakes.

- “Cooking just like home!” The restaurant advertises. You haven’t had home cooking since your mother passed away a few years ago. The cooking does, in fact, taste just like home. You duck your head when you pass the kitchen, too afraid to see inside, see who is cooking your food. It’s better if you just don’t know.

- The man at the table beside you won’t stop shouting at the waitress. She looks tired, even as he shouts more. You cringe at the shouting as you finish your meal, cringe as you take the check. You leave her a large tip, and she looks grateful when she gets it. You sigh in relief, leaving quickly before she changes her mind. You have been spared.

- “Is Pepsi alright?” She asks, staring. You look at your menu - you could have sworn they had Coke - and it’s a different menu. You look up, a different waitress, down again, and your menu is normal. You nod, looking back up to the first waitress. In the end, it’s all the same anyway.