My hands shake. All I can see is the blank paper in front of me, waiting to be turned over. There's a pencil tucked behind my ear, ready for my use. I look around and see everyone else in the room fidgeting or staring down their papers. I wonder if I know any of them... I shake my head and my attention snaps to the front of the room. A man with a white beard and a black suit sits down at a desk. He starts talking but I cannot hear anything. Then, I hear one word - "Begin."
Everyone turns over their papers simultaneously. The noise fills the room. My hands shake terribly as I turn over my paper and grab my pencil. How can it be that just last night I was feeling so confident? I look at the paper. This is possibly one of the hardest tests I have ever taken. There is only one question, but it is one that could mean my life or my death. Of course, not literal life or death. It's just that everyone would be so utterly disappointed. I focus on the clock. There are fifty-eight minutes left. I blink and look down at the paper. I suddenly realize that the words are mixing up, turning and dancing and leaping everywhere. I am dyslexic. I have been for all of my life. It has always been hard for me to study or read or write, although I have always loved it. I sigh and look at the paper, willing the words to stay still.
"Ervandl docudk wlckdkl pnklwn?" is all I can make out. The minutes tick by slowly and I start to worry. My hands lift to my mouth and I chew my nails down to nubs without thinking about it. I tap my toe and look at the clock. There are fifteen minutes left. I write, "I do not know," to the best of my ability, stand up, and turn in my paper. I am a disappointment. I know it is not my fault, yet I feel the weight of a hundred world on my chest.
I got inspiration for this short story from a friend of mine who described being dyslexic to me. I took it and tried to write it from her point of view. I hope you guys like it 😁