Thursday, August 8, 2013

Proper Schooling

Father had done his best to convince Sally no matter what measures the State might take, what oaths or pledges or promises they might expect her to swear, it was imperative she give the impression of compliance…for now. 

Nevertheless, she did not care for the cold, dispassionate manner in which the Instructor led them to repeat the Rules of Discipline. She knew the slightest hesitation…the simplest misspoken word would see her taken from the school to a place of such unspeakable horror she could not imagine surviving it.

To allay suspicion and since she saw no way to avoid such, she raised her hand along with her classmates when the Instructor queried to see who wished to be first in disclosing the name of someone they knew to be disloyal to the State.

A sick sense of dread overtook her when she realized the only name she had to offer them was that of her father.

This story was written for the weekly Five Sentence Fiction flash fiction prompt: learning. 



  1. Oh I really like this story, it gets you hooked straight away.

  2. Oh!!! Very nice!!! Perfectly told, you can just feel the ball of dread growing in your stomach as you read it.

  3. Love the twist and left hanging as to will she/won't she. You capture the fear of putting up hands extremely well. xx

  4. And I thought my school was tough...

    I'm hoping she can make up a name before she's called.

    Nice story!

  5. That ending has me biting my finger-nails - not literally though (I love my nails).

    But that's a spectacular piece!
    Hats off!