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Creative Writing Piece - Obsession

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Obsession As I walked across the stage, my eyes scanned the Great Hall. Amongst the dim light off-stage, I observed a sea of cheerful faces. Friends, parents and relatives of these excited university graduates sat around me, with their cameras flashing proudly. Ironic really, that we had to wear attire consisting entirely of black, on one of the happiest day of our lives. I adjusted the unfamiliar headwear and was caught off-guard when my name was called. "Ashlie Ramsay." After my hand was shaken, I descended the stairs down from the stage and made my way to my seat. At a glance, my eyes met his. A surge of buried emotions started to resurface. In that split second, my mind froze. Feeling tense, I settled down in between my parents and my memories pulled me back to that day when it all started. * "Welcome everyone. I will be teaching you all second year chemistry for this academic year," said Professor Mandal. His eyes swept the lecture theatre and met with mine. I was sitting at the back of the room; a whole row to myself. ...read more.


I dared not gulp in case my embarrassment would be made more obvious. "Thanks for my notebook," I mumbled as I turned around and hurried out the door. * Lying in my bed later that evening, I tossed and turned. I could have made conversation with him. There were a million opportunities to talk to him about his family, chemistry, anything. I should have asked him for some help on this week's topic. But that would mean admitting that the lectures weren't clear enough, which would inadvertently suggest that he was a bad lecturer. It would also have given the impression that I was a forgetful, struggling idiot. My picture collection of Professor Mandal grew greater with every passing week. So did my obsession. Taking photos of him with my mobile phone subtly during lectures was no easy task, but I managed. I could appreciate them better by printing them out and arranging them on the emptiness of my bedroom ceiling. So I did. Instead of revising for a test, I would follow him to his home, just to know where he lived. It made me feel safe. ...read more.


Then his eyes focussed on mine. My mind was so mystified that I believed he was about to kiss me. But all he did was give me that deep, omniscient look. "I know what you did last year," he said in a grave tone. I just stood there, trying to recompose the mixed thoughts racing through my head. "If you understand what kind of consequences your actions have had on me this past year, you would understand how I feel right now." I was not sure how to react, so I apologised weakly. "I'm sorry". All of a sudden, his knowing eyes turned into a look of contempt. I saw in his face, the effect that stress has had upon him. His once jet black hair had thinned, now banded with grey. The lines around his hollow eyes had become more pronounced, making him look much older. The illusion I had of his perfectly proportioned features faded away, as his expression turned from a grimace to one of pure vengeance. He moved in to whisper in my ear. A chill ran down my spine as I feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. "Oh you will be sorry. I'll make sure of it." ...read more.

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