School Girl Blackout: Scene 2

3Rddegreefilms

Whitney Wright, Jack Blaque Pic(s)

The classroom air grew thick with the scent of chalk dust and the sweet, illicit perfume of her anticipation, each shallow breath a conscious effort as the world began to swim at its edges. Her starched white collar felt suddenly like a vise, the crisp cotton of her blouse a rough intrusion agat skin that had become hypersensitive, every thread a tiny electric current. A slow, molten heat pooled low in her belly, spreading through her limbs with a languid weight that made the simple act of lifting a hand seem a monumental task. The drone of the teacher’s voice melted into a distant hum, a meaningless vibration that faded agat the roaring pulse now thrumming in her ears, a primal rhythm dictating the slowing beat of her heart. Her gaze lost its focus, the sharp lines of the desk blurring into soft, impressionistic smears of wood grain and shadow, while the afternoon light through the window bled into a hazy, golden halo. She could feel the delicate perspiration gathering at the small of her back, a damp secret between her skin and the stiff fabric of her pleated skirt, a tiny, humid world of its own. The pressure built behind her eyes, a pleasant, mounting pressure that promised not pain but a profound release, an unraveling of all the day’s tight constraints. A single, warm droplet traced a slow, deliberate path from her temple down her jawline, a tangible proof of the internal fever that was claiming her, a silent tear of pure, overwhelming sensation. And as the last vestiges of conscious thought dissolved into a velvet darkness, her entire being surrendered to the wave of feeling, a complete and utter descent into the waiting, silent embrace of the unknown.