Death By Paper Cut
Monday, March 02, 2009
Death By Paper Cut
I remember my tuition teacher from Mavis, the english tuition that I had to attend in primary school because my english was that horrendous. I forgot her name though, but I do have a picture of her with the class on Children's Day one year, with the whiteboard behind decorated with balloons and she was all dressed up for the occasion as well. She was probably in her early thirties, a really kind and patient teacher whom everybody at the tuition class liked very much. I joined the class halfway through, which was probably why I was rather alien to the people there and everything. But she was nice enough to guide me through the lessons, and also explained the "gold star" system to me. You know, it works like brownie points, and you earn gold stars when you do well in a class activity or a quiz. She was the same tuition teacher who gave me a book, something about young children playing detectives which I never got down to reading. At any rate, she was a really nice teacher, at least to me, and I remember a particular day in class when she was involved in a horrific accident. She was passing out papers that she printed from the office a while ago, and you know how those paper are. The kid at the front row tucked it out of her hand too quickly, and the edge of the paper actually sliced into her palm and made a pretty nasty cut in between her index finger and her thumb. I could tell that she was in pain, and there was quite a bit of blood involved. Yet, she held it in for the rest of the class, and finished the lesson before seeking any medical attention.
I remember my tuition teacher from Mavis, the english tuition that I had to attend in primary school because my english was that horrendous. I forgot her name though, but I do have a picture of her with the class on Children's Day one year, with the whiteboard behind decorated with balloons and she was all dressed up for the occasion as well. She was probably in her early thirties, a really kind and patient teacher whom everybody at the tuition class liked very much. I joined the class halfway through, which was probably why I was rather alien to the people there and everything. But she was nice enough to guide me through the lessons, and also explained the "gold star" system to me. You know, it works like brownie points, and you earn gold stars when you do well in a class activity or a quiz. She was the same tuition teacher who gave me a book, something about young children playing detectives which I never got down to reading. At any rate, she was a really nice teacher, at least to me, and I remember a particular day in class when she was involved in a horrific accident. She was passing out papers that she printed from the office a while ago, and you know how those paper are. The kid at the front row tucked it out of her hand too quickly, and the edge of the paper actually sliced into her palm and made a pretty nasty cut in between her index finger and her thumb. I could tell that she was in pain, and there was quite a bit of blood involved. Yet, she held it in for the rest of the class, and finished the lesson before seeking any medical attention.
That incident is probably the worst case of paper cut I have ever seen in my life, considering the amount of blood involved. I've had a couple of paper cuts in my life, and I'm sure you know how they feel like to the skin. They burn, like a match to your finger, and the pain throbs right under your skin for a long time. It's funny how such a wound hurts considerably more than, say, a graced knee or something. Perhaps it is because I've been through so many stumbles and falls in primary school during one of those games of catching that I've forgot what it feels like to have a wounded kneecap. The edge of a freshly printed paper, that is another thing that I have never experienced before, and I remember the first time a paper managed to make a hole in my finger. I couldn't believe that a paper was capable of such tremendous pain, but there it was in front of me, the culprit of it all - the white devil. So, I have stayed away from art and craft lessons, or just fresh printing paper for the most part. The pain can be rather excruciating, and I can only imagine what my tuition teacher went through that day when she had the skin between her index finger and thumb sliced open. You and I both know the pain of paper cuts, and that is also why I intend to inflict them on the two imbeciles in the library when I see them again.
Felicia and Jeremy would know who I am referring to at this point, and perhaps the line of people behind us just waiting for them to finish printing. All we wanted to do was to get our COM300 Research Proposal printed out, and each of us probably only had about seven or eight pages of materials to print. Printing seven to eight pages probably takes, at the most, ten seconds each. However, our wait in the queue today lasted us for a full ten minutes, and it could have been much longer if not for Jeremy's quick thinking. It was a little after one in the afternoon, it was lunchtime and the library was relatively crowded with people. That is when human traffic is at its worst, because everybody is taking that time to print something in the library. It's normal, and it makes sense, because we are only free to print at that time of the day. You hardly get a queue at the printing station, because nobody is crazy enough to print anything that takes more than a minute to process. People come to the terminal, type in their station number, pick the materials they want to print, scan their EZ-Link or Cash Card, and then grab their work from the printer in less than thirty seconds. That is what usually happens, but apparently not today.
Upon arriving at the printing terminal, I'm pretty sure none of us expected us to be there for the next ten minutes, only to leave the entrance of the library feeling frustrated. We went through the steps as mentioned above, and waited patiently for our research proposals to be spat out of the printer. But it never came, because there were two girls in front of us, just waiting for their own stuff to be done printing. The stack of paper that they had next to the printer was probably already a full inch thick, and they were still going at it like nobody's business. The printer just kept on printing, and printing, and printing, and printing, and the girls just kept on taking it out of the printer and then adding it to the growing stack. We suspected that they were printing an entire book or something, because no notes or assignments are ever going to be that thick. The queue behind us started to build up, and they obviously didn't have any sense of guilt while they were in line. Everybody behind were growing impatient, and Jeremy was already feeling frustrated about the wait. He could have been buying his lunch by then, or be in our classroom eating his packeted lunch. Yet, he was there in line, waiting for the two idiots to finish printing their infinite amount of paper.
They left, at last, and we thought it was our turn to print our own assignments. That was when we realized that the printer was still printing the two idiots' materials, over and over again. It kept churning out the same pages one after the other, and apparently the girls in front were making copies of the same pages for reasons unbeknownst to us. They probably left out of embarrassment, since the line at the printer curled around the computer terminals, a line that I have never seen before in my life. I admire the patience of those that remained in line, because their idiocy wasn't stopping anytime soon. The worst part is that it's not like we could press the "cancel job" button on the printer, because that'd cancel all the jobs of the people behind us in the queue. We've already paid for the printing, which was why it became so frustrating for us while we waited. At that point in time, phone calls were made to us several times in regards to our whereabouts, and Jeremy had to repeat over and over again on how we were "stuck in the library" or "still stuck in the library". Yet, saying those words out loud on the phone and all the groaning and whining surely did little to penetrate the girls' thick skulls. They still took forever to print their stuff, and that was when I started to have murderous thoughts all over again.
You see, I've just watched Let the Right One In yesterday, and the image of the vampire with blood on her lips was still fresh in my mind. How I wish that the significant other could be some kind of closet vampire, or something, and she could rip those two idiots' heads off with her brute strength. That'd probably dirty the carpet in the library, but those two girls really deserved nothing less than a brutal death. I mean, when you are dumb enough to make Jeremy want to, quote unquote, "slap you", you are really dumb. It'd be great if someone could just stuff those extra pieces of paper down their throats, make them choke on them until they die or something like that. I, on the other hand, thought it'd be neat to die from paper cuts. You know, to inflict them on every inch of their skin until they burst open with blood spurting out from within or something like that. It'd be a great torture due to the fact that it involves a painfully slow death, not to mention the fact that paper cuts burn, for some reason. I genuinely felt sad for the trees that went into the production for all the paper that they wasted. I'm not usually concerned about trees though, animals usually come first on my list of things I want to rescue in nature. But at that point in time, I imagine a great big tree falling down on them and crushing their bodies. Such a warm and fuzzy thought, that was.
Anyway, so that incident made Jeremy's day a pretty "meh" day for the most part. Isn't it frustrating when someone just barges into your day and ruins it up? It's kinda like how a school bully would come up to your sand castle and then kicking it just as you are about to top it all off with a flag on the highest tower, or something. Everything became a little crummy from there, and even my appetite was completely lost after the wait in the queue. Seriously, I don't think anybody has ever died from paper cuts before, so I think it'd be a neat idea. I'd probably incorporate a little bit of Nurul's signature torturing method reserved for a certain lecturer here by pouring salt all over their wounds. Or, I could force them to plant trees and take care of them for the next thirty years or so, I think that'd be a whole lot more meaningful. Either way, Felicia suggested the two girls to undergo plastic surgery in the next twenty-four hours, because it is not going to be pretty the next time Jeremy recognizes them on the corridors. It'd be a blood bath of sorts, and Jeremy would probably be unleashing his years of pent up angst on those two inconsiderate imbeciles. OK, maybe not pent up angst, but he has been watching a lot of videos titled "World's Best Slap" lately. You really don't want to test the size of his palm with your face.
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