Posted in Stories and Poems

The Cold Wait

He knows we can’t take it anymore,
And yet, he’s still torturing us.
When he speaks again, his words cut deep into my flesh,
Sending a jolt through my heart,
As my head is snapped to attention.
A cold smile lingers on his face,
As he contemplates his next victim,
His eyes roam hungrily over us all,
Trying to locate the weakest.
I shift in my seat,
Dread seeping through every pore of my body,
I can feel the waves of collective terror,
Radiating from each of us,
As we inwardly pray,
To be spared from his wrath.
And just when it gets hard to breathe,
He says my name,
A smug look flashing across his face,
At the terror in my eyes.
I swallow hard, knowing the worst has come,
Wishing so badly for it to be a dream.
I rise slowly,
Trembling from head to foot,
As my teacher asks me to answer his next question.

~Nehal