“So let’s talk about last week’s assignment,” Preston was saying. He dropped his chalk in favor of a stack of printed papers. “The assignment was to write two pages about your darkest fear…right? Most of you used description very well, but, let’s see—” He flipped through the pages until he came to the one he sought. “Mr. Calloway had an interesting take on the subject. He writes: ‘This is supposed to be a creative writing class and I cannot write creatively when forced to write upon a specific subject. My creativity—and that word is in quotes—is stifled.’” Preston looked up and focused on Hiram Calloway, who stared defiantly back at him. “Well, that’s an interesting way to get out of an assignment.” He glanced to the rest of the class, his gaze touching lightly on Kristi’s before moving on. “However I would have been more impressed had Mr. Calloway said something like, ‘I feel chained to my desk, forced to write a paper I loathe.’ He might have gotten an A for that response; as it is, he’ll have to settle for a B as the paper, or lack thereof, was original.” He smiled then, white teeth against suntanned skin, blond hair gleaming under the lights. “Now, I’d like to read something more traditional and worthy of the A she received. This paper is written by Miss Kwan and I would say she has a good understanding of writing viscerally and descriptively.”

Kristi glanced at Mai, who lifted her chin a notch as Preston began to read.

“‘I fear the devil. Yes, Satan. Lucifer. Evil incarnate. Why? Because I think he, or she, if you so believe, lurks in all of us, at least, if I’m honest, he lives in me, deep in the nether regions of my soul. I struggle to keep him trapped and locked away for fear of what he, and I, as his vessel, might do. I cannot imagine the pain and suffering he might inflict should he be unleashed.’”

Preston grinned at Mai, almost as if he knew her intimately. What was that all about? “That was just the first paragraph and yet we feel the writer’s battle, her fear, her worry about her own psychosis. For in that one paragraph we see that she still has the upper hand. She talks not of the devil breaking free but of her unleashing him. She still has control, albeit a very tenuous hold on Satan and her sanity.” He nodded as if agreeing with himself, his blond hair catching the light of the fluorescent bulbs humming over his head. “Well done, Miss Kwan. She received the only A because she was the only one of you who made me believe she was indeed writing from her heart.”