Poem Day? Might As Well Be Doomsday!

This story is a comical look at poem recitation. No one, not even me, is based of off Robby. I had no person in mind when I came up with this. Sarah, however, is based on someone. (You should know if it's you after you read this.) I'm not sure if I stretched the truth a little, but I'm sure I didn't. This person never made me feel incompetent, but she's pretty dang amazing. 

He came into the classroom. Not many people would be able to notice, but Robby was feeling nervous. He didn't memorize his poem, and he had to recite it today in front of the whole class! He knew that the poem was "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley, and he heard it enough times in class to know the basic outline, but he didn't actually know it like he was supposed to. Everyone was chatting to some friend of theirs, acting as though the whole ideal Robby thought of as doomsday was just a walk in the park. In truth, Robby thought, it actually might. They memorized every day for two weeks. "How embarrassing would it be if I was the only one who didn't have their poem memorized," Robby thought. "I would be so embarrassed! He could imagine all thirty pointer-fingers mocking in his direction as they laughed there precious guts out. He would never hear the end of it. Just as Robby was coming up with a plan to weasel his way out of the poem, the bell rang. Everyone got in seats, but the talking only went down by a little. Mrs. Janet, the teacher, got up from her chair. As she got up to the center of the room, Robby knew what she was going to say.

"Get in your seats everyone. I just need to take roll and then we can start doing poems."

Robby cringed. She hadn't said it just yet. It was true that she said the vile word "poem," which was like nagging cows as they walked into the slaughter-house, but Robby could still breathe. Maybe if he tried studying the poem now, he might just be able to pass. It was very unlikely, but still possible and his only option. He got out the paper with "Invictus." He read it line by line and repeated the process. Unfortunately, he only got through the twelve-lined poem three times before Mrs. Janet said, "Alright everyone, let's get in theater position and start doing poems." Robby cringed the last time, but those words were the words of doom. Fear ran through Robby. Panic increased, his heart-rate sped up, and he actually got some small tears in his eyes. He wiped them away though, not wanting anyone to see that he was crying over a poem. Although he wanted too, all the other kids might think of him as a crybaby. He reassured himself. It's okay Robby, if you don't get it this time, you can always take a redo. That calmed him down enough for the tears to dry up, but he was still nervous.

"Okay, announced Mrs. Janet, since this is our first day of poems, I'm going to be a little generous with the grading." What a relief, thought Robby. He might be in a little less trouble. "But, since this is a ninth grade class, I do not want any mediocre work." Again, Robby became nervous. If I go out there, I'm going to look like an idiot! Thought Robby. Just then, Mrs. Janet began to call names.

"Ray Sorenson"

Typical. Mrs. Janet never went in order. Ray stood up from his spot and walked to the front of the room. He looked nervous, but not anywhere close to how nervous Robby was. "My name is Ray Sorenson and I will be doing "A Dream Within A Dream" by Edgar Allen Poe. He recited it with moderate skill with only two instances of help from the teacher.
Not a bad start, though Robby, I'm not going to do as good as that kid though. He started looking over his poem again. He thought that he might be able to do one stanza at least. Seven people went up. All of them recited their poem like it the same as the first, with moderate skill. Some didn't have to be hinted of the first word of a line at all.
This is not good on my part. Robby cursed silently.

"Sarah Hugh," Mrs. Janet called out.

Sarah got up to the center and with all the composure of a professional, she began to talk. "My name is Sarah Hugh and I will be doing 'O Captain! My Captain!' by Walt Whitman". As soon as she began to speak, Robby recognized a huge difference between her and the ones who had previously gone up. First big contrast was the way she spoke. The others had stuttered sometimes, forgot a word or two, and had to pause and think for a moment. All of that was from stage fright. It seemed though that all the stage fright Sarah had was in the back of her mind. She recited it clearly, she remembered all the lines, and she didn't have to pause. The other difference was the way she said it. She didn't recite it, she really spoke it like it had meaning to her. And she actually acted it out instead of standing in position. And it wasn't boring. She actually got you gripped into the poem. It was used the way a poem should be used, and it was incredible.

As Sarah began to sit down, Robby was having a near-mental break-down. After something like that, I'm going to look pathetic in front of those people! Robby couldn't get another though in before Mrs. Janet spoke again.

"Robby Jordon."

Crap. I'm doomed. As Robby stood up and handed his paper to Mrs. Janet, he could swear he could hear the death bells toll. Slowly, he walked up to the place where his death would surely be marked. He began to speak. "Hello, my name is Robby Jordon, and I will be doing ""Invictus" by William Ernest Henley." He hesitated, afraid to speak. It was now or another few seconds though, so he chose now.

"Out of the night that covers me, as black as the pit from...."
       "Pole to pole," Mrs. Janet said.
"Yes, as black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever God-
        "Gods."
"Gods may be, for..............." Robby thought. He couldn't think of it.
         "My" said Mrs. Janet.
"My" repeated Robby.
         "Unconquerable."
"Unconquerable."
      "You don't know this poem, do you?" questioned Mrs. Janet.
"No, admitted Robby, I don't."
        "Okay then, you have a redo. Memorize this poem and another by the next two weeks."
Robby was astonished. The teacher didn't get angry! The students didn't laugh at him! HALEIGH-STINKIN'-LUAU! He was still alive! Robby sat down with a grin on his face. He was alive, and he could make things right again. He would be prepared and he was going to do great. After that day, Robby never again feared Doomsday.