Copied from my first essay in composition class:
The universe has a vendetta against me. After seventeen years on earth, I can say that conclusively. Far too often, every minute detail aligns to destroy me. At every turn, fate engineers my suffering. When faced with the animosity of the universe itself, most men would shrink. However, after almost two decades of struggle, I have grown resilient and stubborn. But the strong must someday crumble. After years of planning, fate momentarily broke my will with a monumental, all-out assault. One so powerful that if it could not knock me to my knees, it would simply break them instead.
The seeds of the attack were sewn roughly a year in advance, in my sophomore year of high school. One fateful day in Spanish class, the teacher pitched an offer no one could refuse, a school sponsored, 13-day trip through France and Spain. Being an adventurous, naive, young boy, I instantly signed on. Little did I know, fate was maniacally giggling as my signature met the paper.
Approximately one year later, the departure date arrived and suddenly, after numerous goodbyes and TSA pat-downs, our group of roughly forty-five people nervously scrambled to our gate. Then, without warning, she stumbled into my life.
As a hormonally charged teenage boy, women are my natural weakness. However, one particular type of woman leaves me powerless. Some call it my type, I call it my kryptonite. To spare the details, she checked all my boxes. When she stumbled into my life, my sole mission became meeting her, and thus my downward course was sealed.
Having prior experience with flings both minor and major, I knew the dangers of haste. As such, out of both patience and my sheepish nature, I bided my time and waited for the perfect opportunity. After four days of bashfulness and a journey through the French countryside, I saw the opportune moment and tested the waters. Where else to test the waters, but on the subway? Truly, I am a hopeless romantic. “Woah, I gotta say I’m impressed, did you seriously just give up your seat?” I said standing, with an odd lack of anxiety. “Well, she looked tired so, ya know, I thought she should have it instead,” she said in reply. “Well, you're certainly kinder than me, I’m selfish when I am tired,” I said with a chuckle. Lo and behold, she replied with a genuine laugh and smile. My waiting paid off! Finally, my luck was turning!
With a minor victory in hand, I pressed forward. Marching onward towards my doom, I made tremendous progress that next day, carrying on fuller conversations brimming with both laughs and smiles. Needless to say, I slept quite contently that night.
As the next morning broke and the sun rose, fate’s barbaric assault began. Waking from a giddy sleep, I noticed my stomach churn ferociously. Every step to the shower was grueling as my stomach seemingly collapsed in on itself. You see, I am prone to stomach issues, but I had stumbled upon a new breed of digestive pain. Exerting every ounce of willpower in my arsenal, I pressed forward and showered. But my efforts were futile.
Lurching out of the shower, I barreled to the toilet as fate launched the first of three offensives. Within seconds of turning the shower off, I was gutturally vomiting into the nearby bidet. The pain was horrendous and no relief came afterward. Finishing my business, I decided breakfast would be the perfect complement to my boiling stomach. Truly, I am a smart man. Little did I know, that I was careening headlong into a surprise attack.
However, out of pride and desperation, I concealed my affliction. For a man who had just ejected the contents of his stomach, I walked with a surprising nonchalance. Considering the circumstances, my acting was brilliant. No one could have possibly suspected a thing as I inconspicuously filled my plate with bland, stomach settling foods. To be honest, if the security tapes from that morning exist, I want them. “Maybe I can make it out of this alive,” I thought to myself. My heart burned with hope as needles seemed to flow through every vein in my body.
Through a miracle of willpower, I made it to a table. Needless to say, I was not in the mood to talk, so I opted for an empty, quiet table towards the back. Apparently, I was sending the wrong signal because everyone I knew took this an open invitation to join me. Imagine carrying on a regular conversation whilst grenades continuously explode all throughout your abdominal region. Does that seem difficult? It is.
To only make matters worse, she shows up. Smiling and unsuspecting, Sarah takes a seat across from me. Fate, being the cruel designer of my life, launches its second attack immediately. Fighting tooth and nail, I keep the contents of my stomach where they belong, but such a dam will surely not hold. An arctic-chilled sweat washes over me as the gravity of my present predicament slaps me in the face. I knew full well, the next sixty seconds of my life were absolutely critical.
Quickly evaluating my tactical options, I planned my escape. Acting natural to evade suspicion, I casually joke with her across the table. In the process, I spent approximately twenty seconds of my sixty second time-limit, and the dam was cracking. So, seeing time wear thin, I excuse myself to the restroom. At the cost of another ten seconds, I coolly sauntered across the room and out the door. Once out of sight, I sprint to the bathroom, flinging the door open like an animal.
Once inside, I desperately search for a toilet, to no avail. There was not a single toilet in that bathroom, only urinals. Regardless, my dam was bursting and beggars cannot be choosers. So, I furiously vomited into a urinal. To make matters worse, my face was less than an inch from porcelain. But, with all that said, I escaped detection.
Finishing my business, I washed my hands and proceeded to rebuild my composure. Escaping back to my room, I brushed my teeth, flooded my mouth with Listerine, and gathered my luggage for the scheduled bus trip to Madrid. Luckily, the pain in my stomach finally dulled to a low throb, so I was confident in my ability to survive the coming trek across the Spanish countryside. “All that was just a passing stomach attack, I’ll be fine soon enough now that I got it all out of my system.” What a fool I was, I had only caught the eye of the storm.
As fate gathered the heavy artillery, we piled into the bus. Seeing as my seething stomach had finally settled, I followed my friends to the back and claimed my seat. Prepping for the three-hour journey ahead, we curled up in our cozy seats and began to doze. Drifting in and out of sleep, I celebrated my flawless victory. “I made it,” I thought to myself, “somehow I made it.” Soon after, as the whole bus slept soundly, fate set the final offensive into motion. A newfound queasiness roused me from my light slumber. For a brief moment, I resisted, but at that point, I knew my destiny was inescapable. However, damage control was still in the cards. Wasting no time, I scrambled for a bag. Though, as luck would have it, my travel backpack only contained a single plastic bag and it certainly was not empty. It was stuffed to brim with medicine. Knowing my time was near, I frantically dumped out the pills and braced for fate’s final blow, but to no avail.
Submitting to the unstoppable hand of destiny, I ferociously unleashed the contents of my stomach, but not just into the empty bag. Only half of the vomit landed in the bag, the other half seeped down the side of the bag onto my lap. Thus, fate’s cruel designs were realized and my suffering was sealed.
After weathering the final onslaught, I momentarily recovered and assessed the aftermath. First, I surely had food poisoning. Second, I was holding a clear plastic bag half-filled with vomit. Third, my lap was soaked with my own breakfast. Finally, and thankfully, every other passenger remained fast asleep. Seeing a unique opportunity, I hastily grabbed my bag and quietly waddled up to the front of the bus to notify the chaperones. Their faces sank as I delivered the news, however, they had some news of their own. Out of concern, they asked if I had an “accident,” whilst throwing up.
Apparently, the vomit in my lap had seeped through my legs and drenched my entire backside. And seeing as I had just waddled up the length of the bus, it was on full display. For a moment, I panicked, but all was not lost. Everyone was asleep, so by some divine providence, I escaped detection! Though, upon turning back towards my seat, I realized the full breadth of the universe’s animosity.
One person lay awake in that bus; can you guess who it was? It was Sarah. Her eyes gaping with terror, she seemed almost paralyzed. She undoubtedly witnessed my “accident.” In that moment, my soul melted and my stubborn will was broken. Fate won the day; Sarah and I understandably never spoke again.
TL;DR Went to Europe, crushed on a girl, got sick, threw up all over myself, looked like I shat myself, girl understandably never talked to me again