[ WP ] Write a story about a student slowly going insane .

Everyday I watch Mr. Lansing ’ s moustache crawl across his face. I ’ ve begun to doodle it on my paper as a caterpillar that burrowed into his nose crawled through his head and commenced eating his brain. Although, anything that ate Mr. Lansing ’ s brain would die from the monotony that has lived there for years and gone rancid. 
 My life changed a few months ago when these sessions started. I was now a pupil, a man required to memorize the ramblings of a recluse in the hopes of acquiring a job of such tedium even Sisyphus would grow tired. Yet, I exaggerate the dullness of the lessons as his constant fidgeting and off-topic fixation is enough to drive one mad. His quirks were starting to grab hold of me contorting my mind and causing me to wince at his odd mannerisms. His tone and mispronunciations were needles stabbed into my ears. Spit would fly from his face and cause my muscles to tense. Only the bell of his time-keeper marking the end of a session would alleviate my spasms. 
 “ Did you get that Steven? ” Mr. Lansing said. 
 “ Of course sir ”, I replied. 
 His brow was furrowed in disappointment as he had caught my eyes wandering out the window and his gaze remained until I resumed my writing. I knew I had better re-establish attention as my apprenticeship required his approval. My only problem came from the angry that had began burrowing into my own head. At first, I had become flushed from the fury. Then my body would almost rise from the chair causing me to cling to the armrests. I wanted to strike the man. I wanted him to feel the pain he had caused my mind in these months we had spent together. 
 I was flushed and out of breath at this point the calls of my conscious to settle down were being repeated as I tried to reach a trance-like state. It wasn ’ t just in Mr. Lansing ’ s den I felt these urges anymore. If the thought of him crossed my mind during the daily drudge I would immediately become rabid throwing the nearest object at the wall or smashing my fists into the porcelain of my sink. With, no armrests to hold me back I was a ticking time-bomb. I had learned nothing from him. I had only gained his lunacy. 
 The bell echoes out across the room as my mind and body are washed in a river of relief. As he finishes his sentiments and bids me farewell a snide smile crosses my face. I nod farewell as a dark voice inside me bellows “ until next time Mr. Lansing. ” As I leave the den my mind is tantalized by images of me beating him accompanied by yells of ecstasy. 

