With a pencil in my hand, I stared at the vast whiteness in front of me. It was scary, all that open space. The blank piece of poster board teased me, daring me to make a mistake. I looked at the pictures beside me and then back at the poster board. With this one little pencil, I had to make those beautiful images appear on my blank paper. I tapped the pencil against the desk. I looked at the images again, trying to find the right place to start. Hesitantly, I brought the pencil directly over the center of the paper.
Then I stopped. I knew that whatever lines I placed onto the paper would be erased. No matter what, those first lines would not be correct. They never are. I looked at the images once more. Where to start? Why did I have this problem every time? That fear of making a mistake was haunting me.
All this trouble started at the beginning of the summer when we painted our kitchen and removed a large china cabinet. The absence of this piece of furniture created a sad empty space on the newly red wall. It needed a picture and I volunteered to create one. I found my inspiration through a series of pictures. I even sketched a miniature layout, combining the best parts of each picture into one perfect image.
And yet I could not start the picture. I was completely prepared, but it was so hard to actually begin. I could not understand why at the time, but now I know. It was the fear of failure, even in a few lines. Those lines would be wrong, I knew. I did not want to be wrong. I wanted to draw the lines without stopping and watch the picture form without ever using my eraser. Erasing means I made a mistake. I fear making a mistake.

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...