There might, ironically enough, be spelling errors in this text. I wrote it in a couple of minutes. Due to being older and much more mature than when this story took place, I will not cry when I see the typos. Enjoy this humiliating story!
I will tell you about the most awful moment in the history of Suspicious. A moment so gruesome it still sends shivers down my spine. I swear to any heavenly body or supernatural force that I will never forget this event.
Let me set the scene.
For the sake of the story let us call my friend… hmm…Bob. Bob’s a nice enough name. It complements his superior intellect and tan skin. But enough about suiting names and nonsense like that. I have a story to tell.
Once upon a time, in the small town of (let’s call it) Norwaydal, lived a young girl named Suspicious. She liked writing, mostly in Norwegian, but she had just started dipping her toes into the waters consisting of English prose. There was nothing Suspicious would rather do than to sit and write all day.
One day, a glorious September day might I add, the teacher (shall we call him) Evo came into the classroom.
“We will have an activity day! You, puny pupils, shall know your true teacher overlords as you take part in such activities as rowing, golf, news-writing and singing. Those who cannot partake in these activities will be sentenced to trial by fire!” then Evo draped his purple cape over his right shoulder and left. Well, that might not be entirely true, but I think it adds some flare to the story, don’t you?
Naturally, I turned to my friends and asked them what they were going to pick. I wasn’t about to be stranded alone in the news-writing part. I would need to have a friend with me. Bob (as the gallant prince he was) decided to do the writing together with me. As the silly 9th graders we were, we didn’t think of the responsibility. Our writing would be put up around the school, for all to see.
The activity day was pretty uneventful. We sat there, writing some news articles about what the other kids were doing. We were like journalists, working with tight deadlines, but still having time to be silly.
Then it came; The moment I will never forget. There was a group of long-distance runners doing something called the Mountain Challenge.
I was set to write the article about this. I got the papers about it and the pictures. The paper said, in all-caps.
The pencil was shaking in my tiny hand. Something was wrong. But I wasn’t the best at English, and though I got good grades in the subject, I wasn’t even close to feeling comfortable with the language. I put my pencil down, grabbed the permanent marker, and started writing. I wrote as beautifully as I possibly could (which isn’t very beautiful since I’m a lefty writing with my right hand). Mountain… Yes, that was easy. I knew how to write “Mountain”. I stopped when I came to the next word though. Challange. Something still didn’t feel right. But I wrote it down as it said on the piece of paper, and when I was done I felt pretty confident about it.
I showed it to Bob with a big smile plastered on my face. As smile that said: “Hi Bob! Look at what I’ve done today! Can you say you have produced something this glorious?” My smile quickly faded when I saw him pointing at the word.
“You wrote Challange, Suspicious. It’s written Challenge.” I looked down at poster. One word has disgraced my whole article. I knew it was wrong. Still, I didn’t want to admit my defeat. Someone had written it wrong to begin with. One of the teachers probably. If I only could get one of the teachers on my team, I wouldn’t look so bad.
“No Bob. I’m pretty sure it’s written challange.”
“Don’t be stupid, Suspicious.”
“Who’s got a six in English? Is it me or you? Oh right, it’s me. So shut up!” Six is the best grade you could get in the Norwegian school system, and I was quite proud of my sixes in Norwegian and English (though my maths was suffering with a weak three or so). Even though I had a six in English, it was a cheap shot… And Bob knew it.
“I’ll go get an English dictionary.” Yes, this was before the days of always bringing a computer to school. We still used dictionaries.
While Bob went looking for a dictionary, I tried gathering a small army of teachers to back me up. I had almost convinced myself that the word was, in fact, written challange.
As he came back, I was standing there alone on the battlefield. He had a weapon in hand. It was big and yellow with the words Engelsk – Norsk Norsk –Engelsk written on it. I only had a poster with an article and a typo on it.
He came up to me. Pointed his finger at the word.
Norsk: provosere, utfordre - English: Challenge
The teachers looked at me and shook their heads. Bob shot me a victorious grin. I admitted defeat. Teary eyed I sat down with the article in my hand. I took the permanent marker, and wrote a big E over the A.
After that, the teachers took the poster and put it up in the hallway. Now the whole school could see it. My friends, my enemies, my crushes. All of them would know of the epic spelling error that led to my doom. Well, maybe not quite that gloomy, but at least it attracts attention.589Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWYntoHspTD
This has been very hard for me to share. I almost shed a tear writing this. I hope everyone will take this seriousl…. Hey! I can see you snickering Kholekins2001 Are you laughing at me Frances? Don’t think I don’t see that stupid smile Coen Wonder.ns 18.104.22.168da2