Panic Attack

Thousands of faces staring at me
My pencil won't move
Their pencils are moving fast
They write and they write
Like their life depends on it
Am I cut out for this?
Still my pencil won't move
Instead tears start streaming down
“Get out of there”
My thoughts scream at me
But I stay put, won't move
Just like my pencil
I stare at the paper
“Please, remember something
Write something”
But nothing comes to me
Everyone has left
Except for me and two other girls
I hand my paper in
And disappear 

Rannveig Iðunn 27. júlí 2008