Lips drawn tight. Nose wrinkled up. Her hand moves slowly over the page. She fills in the spaces between  the lines; the graphite of the pencil her weapon. Slowly the number nine loses its shape. Loses its identity on the paper. A slow, small grin pushes its way to the surface. Ah! If only it were that simple. To simply color it all in; make it all just disappear. Visible to none.

An evil plot grows in her mind. Her heart beats slightly faster, excited by the thought of wiping out its existence. Coloring in the spaces. Smothering out the very life each one brings to the page. Her stress eradicated. Her anguish extinguished. Her mind could rest; could be free from the chaos, the torture of this laborious chore.

Her hand moves faster; closing the spaces in each number. First the nine. Then the three. Next to go? The six. Ah! Yes, the six. Her hand flows from one number to the next. Each disappearing with nothing more than the scratching of the graphite on the page. A weight lifting from her chest; transferring to the shapes; to the numbers themselves. Faster the pencil moves on the page. Fanatically it disguises each number. A hum vibrates through her soul. Peace is reaching her. Four is next. She’s almost free. A five. Another nine. A one…A one?

It hits her. The weight; it returns. The tension tightens at the base of her neck. Her heart skips. Her breath catches. A one? A single number. The number one. It cannot be disguised from what it is. Number one. A line. A simple, single line. A line drawn that cannot be crossed. The one.

With disappointment of not reaching her escape, she flips the wooden pencil, ironically the shape of a one, over and begins to slowly erasing the marks. Morning each numbers return. There is no escape from this destiny. With the last number’s release from the graphite, she lets a sigh escape her lips. Her shoulders sink down. It is inevitable. She returns to the page. Faces her anguish. Faces the inevitable.

Problem number one. Her agonizing sentence she must carry out.

Problem number one. Her brick wall she must climb.

Problem number one. The key to her future.

Problem number one. Problem number one of her final College Algebra exam.