The teacher finishes with attendance and then standing, he goes to the door and looking out into the hall, he closes the door and looking at the class, he announces, "Everybody here? Good...we can get started."
Reaching into his book-bag, he pulls out a box of crayons. Looking at the class, he does a quick mental count and then says, "Each of you will take a crayon. There only two colours...Pink and Blue. Afterward, you'll be given a piece of paper. Now, on that piece of paper, you are to draw something that has to do with social, studies or a combination of the two."
A groan ripples through the class, but you don't join in. Instead, you think, "What the hell," as the teacher starts to walk up and down the rows.
When he finally gets to you, he holds the box out in a way that keeps you from seeing the crayon you're going to get. Unsure, you hesitantly reach out and sticking your hand into the box, you slowly extract a pink crayon. Smiling, the teacher walks past your desk and continues on.
Staring at the pink crayon, you see that there is nothing particularly special about it. Reading the Crayola name brand and the inscription on the side that announces the crayon is a Bright Pink, you turn it gently in your hands. As you do so, you suddenly feel like drawing a very pretty picture. Dropping the crayon, you look around, thinking once again, "What the hell," noting the confused looked on several other students' faces.
Looking back at the crayon, it is suddenly covered by a piece of white paper and looking up, you see the teacher walk past. Shifting the items about on your desk, bothered by the odd feeling of touching the crayon, you are hesitant about touching it a second time.
In front of the class, the teacher collects his book-bag and then does a really strange thing...he leaves.
As he is leaving, an elderly woman entered and as the two passed, you heard the Social Studies teaching saying, "They're all your Missus Hopkins. Hope the experiment works out."
You can't hear what Missus Hopkins is saying and looking back at the crayon, you suddenly what to leave. Looking back up, you note that Missus Hopkins has sat down at the desk...and the more you look the more you realise that you have seen her before.
And then, in a blinding flash, it dawns on you...she was the elementary school you had in K through sixth grade. As you realise this, you look around, noting that several students have begun to draw, failing to notice that the original teacher has done a bunk, while others are looking toward the front of the classroom.
As you look back toward the front, you notice Missus Hopkins getting up and start to wander between the desks. When she gets to you, she whispers, "You may begin."
Unsure, you tell her, "I don't know what to draw and I never was really good at art."
Missus Hopkins nodded at this and then whispering, "Why don't you just draw whatever comes to mind. As long as it has something to do with Social, Studying or Social Studies, you'll be fine."
Unsure, you nod and then reaching for the pink crayon, a sensation of wanting to draw a very pretty picture washing over you as you touch it, you slide the paper closer to you. Looking down, you begin to kick your feet back and forth without giving it much thought. Tilting your head to one side, you look at the paper, attempting to will an image out of it.
After a moment or two, you place the tip of the crayon to the paper and you begin to draw...losing yourself to the strange feeling and the oddities of what was happening around you...thinking of only one thing.