[TW: This story contains bl##d] This is a short horror story I wrote. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think. Headphones reccomended. The story is in the notes and credits.
I know for a fact that Robbie had good intentions. He would have never done this if he had known what would happen as a result. Though Mr. Riggins was to blame as well. Robbie needed extra credit because he just wasn't doing too great in Riggins' class. I always knew in the back of my mind the old bat hated that poor kid, but not that much. I heard those cold sarcastic words with my own two ears. I don't think that old man ever smiled sincerely a day in his life. Robbie, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He earned the title of class clown three years in a row, and was always a ray of sunshine, despite having his fair share of hecklers. Robbie was, if I may be so bold, good vibes incarnate. If he had lived to see graduation, he would have been unstoppable. Maybe he would have become the next president. But he couldn't make everyone like him. Mr. Riggins wasn't the first to see the note. Hilary Graves, the sophomore, was. Her reaction just wasn't widely spoken of because she kind of deserved it. All the popular kids stopped hanging out with her because she was, well, Hilary. She sort of had a one track mind, never not talking or thinking about anything much but herself and how her family personally knows all these other rich people, and talking down on anyone who refused to stroke her ego. As she passed Robbie, who was reading over the piece of paper while on his way to class, she demanded he show her what that 'miserable little scrap of paper' was. When he refused, she snatched it out of his hand and read it out loud in a mocking voice. She began chuckling sarcastically, but it gradually, by some miracle, grew more sincere and louder, until she couldn't stop. She collapsed on the hard tile floor, her metal headband stabbing into her skull. Despite how mean Hilary was to him, Robbie still sprinted to the nurse's office. The nurse thanked Robbie for his integrity, and allowed him to go to class. He made it to his desk seconds before the late bell. Class went on, and before the lunch bell, Riggins inquired if Robbie had actually by some fluke, completed his extra credit assignment. Robbie nodded, stood up, and handed the note to him. Riggins completely doubted that Robbie had actually written the world's funniest joke, funny enough to make even he, the stone-hearted old bat, laugh. But it would be amusing to humiliate him. He unfolded the note, and put it up on the projector screen. Time itself seemed to freeze as everyone took a moment to read it. Robbie had done it. Written and re-written it 486 times, achieved perfection, and went to bed at 3:24 that morning, and slept well knowing he would make at least one more person laugh. Riggins' laugh was ugly. Anyone could tell he hadn't laughed in at least 50 years. While Riggins was still conscious, he went into the grade-book, the projector still on, and changed Robbie's grade to an A+ for everyone to see. Blood began trickling out of the old man's ears and tear-ducts, onto his desk, and sprayed the faces of nearly everyone in the front row as his face hit the desk like a gavel. Kids started screaming and ran out of Riggins' room as the lunch bell rang. After nearly everyone had fled, Robbie took the note from the projector and tore it into tiny pieces. Tears trickled down his face.
