Hey no problem, it looks like a slow day all around, but it would probably be best to stick with simple prompts. More room for imagination. I gave it a stab but it seemed to insist on being based on jealousy rather than hate or weakness. I also tried to write Mason as a person with down syndrome, but I didn't want to come right out and say it, so I hope you can still tell.
"Alright Mason I know that you know this, we've done this every lesson. Now tell me which side the hypotenuse is," He growled, scratching a right angled triangle onto a sheet of paper and shoving it in front of him.
Mason stared at it dumbfounded, his almond shaped eyes glazed and jaw slightly open. He planted a finger on the drawing, and traced the lines on the triangle around and around as his jaw worked in thought.
"Is it the long one?" he said after a minute of intensely wracking his memory
Jake sighed, and rubbed the his forehead in frustration. Every time they'd gone through this he'd stressed, in the simplest terms he could manage, that the hypotenuse wasn't just the long one, it was the side opposite the right angle of the triangle, but could Mason remember that? No, of course he couldn't. He probably couldn't even tell which angle was right without comparing them all to the his thumb and forefinger.
"Yes it is." No it isn't He thought, but if he said that out loud Mason would misunderstand and throw out an entire weeks progress.
Jake drew down several more triangles and wrote up different measurements for each. Dreading it already he took out his calculator.
"Now sometimes, a test will ask you how long the hypotenuse is, but the test will only tell you how long the two other sides are, so you have to use a calculator to work it out,"
"Can I use a ruler?" Mason asked.
"No, only your calculator," grumbled Jake.
The rest of the lesson plodded along incredibly slowly, Mason questioning every tiny thing and taking an absolute age to input the simplest commands into the calculator. Mercifully the lunch bell rang. He quickly scribbled down a few more sheets of work for Mason to do at home and barreled out the door of the special education classroom before anyone could see him in it. He skulked back to his favorite spot by the stair well and took out his homework, aiming to have his history essay compete before the end of lunch.
Mason left at a more leisurely pace, carefully packing his possessions away into his scooby doo back pack and chatting with the elderly teachers aid on the veranda of the detachable. Then satisfied he bounded, not walked, over to the cola where his friends were waiting.
If you could call them friends.
They pitied Mason. It was clear as day, and they were all drama student types so it wouldn't really be hard for them. still, he greeted every one of them with hugs and exuberant hellos, and they play acted in return, one girl pretending to swoon and collapse into the arms of the boy beside her. They laughed, and sat together on the concrete, some of them taking out books and scrips to practice for their classes.
Jake stuffed his nose into his homework resolutely. They were fake, they had to be. Mason couldn't even do his times tables right, so there was no way he'd be smart enough, or good enough to make people like him. Jake was much more intelligent than Mason was and he couldn't manage it. People were too demanding, too confusing. No matter how hard he studied and tried he could never manage to sort pity from sympathy, kindness from mockery, derision from affection. How on earth could Mason manage it? He couldn't, they had to be using him, joking at him, laughing at him.
His hands clenched into fists, tearing the delicate worksheets.
It wasn't fair, for Mason to be such an utter imbecile in one way, and so effortlessly good in another. He had studied, read and he had tried so hard and it never ever got easier, it just wasn't fair!
The mountain, if you could call it a mountain, was huge beyond comprehension. It dwarfed anything and everything that little Jackson had seen in his entire life, even the other, smaller mountains around the behemoth could have hidden his village in their shadows. It didn't look like a proper mountain though, oh no, instead of sloping, forested sides this mountain cam spearing up out of the earth as if some god had planted it their, it's sides as steep and jagged as the split trunk of a tree. The bareness of grey stone seemed to suck the light of the sun from the air around it, compelling him to stare into it, up to it's thorny tip, crowned by swirling clouds and heralded by the angry whistle of far off wind.
next:it was love at first sight.
edited 14th Apr '13 7:48:04 PM by Lockedbox