Maybe I should explain myself first. I suppose it would make it a lot easier for you to make sense of. I’m not saying I think that you’re stupid or any less clever than me. You see people think I look down on them because I’m in special classes at school- for higher ability pupils. But I don’t. If anything, I envy them. You know why? No, I guess you’ll never really understand.
Everyone gets stressed. Clever people especially. We have all this pressure piled upon us by our parents and teacher, for us to do well in exams and pave a way forward along our career path. I hate exams, just because I get stressed. You might think I’m being pathetic, stressing over something that I’m bound to do well in. Every teenager does it. “I can’t let them down, I’m doing this for them”. It’s what we all think. I mean, we wouldn’t even be in school if it weren’t for our parents paying the tuition fees. The dedication that teachers show when it exam time, cancelling lessons with younger classes to spend more time teaching us. It makes me feel even worse when I think of them.
You see, I’m not a normal pupil. I’m clever, yes, but I have much more inside me than intelligence. When I’m put under immense pressure, such as in exams, bad things happen. Sometimes it’s just chairs moving or windows breaking. Other times it’s balls of fire roaring through the corridors, or lightning storms battering the life out of the local library. It’s a not a nice feeling I get when it happens. My stomach twists into knots and the demons inside me try to break free. So far I’ve managed to keep them under control, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep hold of them.
I hear voices sometimes. They don’t really make any sense. The best way I could describe it is it’s like being trapped in a crowd of people for a period of time, then them all vanishing completely, all at once. The voices talk to me. They try to make me face the demons and set them loose. But I won’t let them, not if I can help it. I won’t let them beat me and I won’t let them ruin my life.

(Insert chapter name here)
My pencil was tapping on the desk. I wasn’t holding it; it was just floating in mid air, tap tap tapping on the desk. I was up to my neck in revision books and I had only a couple of days before my first big exam- maths. To say I was dreading it was an understatement. If I got through that first exam without destroying something it would be a miracle.
I first realised that I had this “gift” when I was eight years old. I was in year three at the time. We were playing hockey on the schoolyard and my team only needed one more point to win. I hate losing so I decided to charge through the middle and score in the last few seconds that we had left. I was under pressure from the rest of the team to score (I’m the tallest and the fastest so it was inevitable that they’d pick me). I could feel myself shivering in the cold (it was winter at the time and my school didn’t think anything of sending us out in shorts and t-shirt). I ran forward when the whistle went, tackling the two defenders that were paying attention at the time, and stealing the ball. Skilfully dribbling the ball up the pitch, I headed towards the goal, but as I neared the posts my head began to burn. A fiery sensation seared across my head and I hit the ball as hard as I could. Luckily I scored before I hit the ground, but everyone was too busy staring at the oak tree, in the corner of the yard, to notice. The demons inside me had taken over me during my moment of stress and caused me to set the tree on fire. The flames ate up every part of the tree, but nobody ever figured out that it was me that did it.
Anyway, it was a Tuesday night, and I was doing some last minute revision for my maths exam. My paper was covered in random letters and symbols, which, to any normal person, shouldn’t make sense, but to me they did. It was ridiculous. Why did we have to learn all this stuff when we were never going to use it?? My pencil was still drumming away on the desk, making it even harder to concentrate. My patience was running thin and before I knew it I had stood up, fists clenched, and cheeks burning red with anger. The pencil shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces and headed in all directions. I managed to shield my face just in time before I was showered in splinters.



Barnsley, United Kingdom

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Story I wrote out of boredem and because I am under a lot of pressure at the moment (exams) so I thought I’d write about a character I could relate with a little.


demons voices

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.