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I need to point out that we read our stories out loud to the class. My story named him by first and last name. It was not ambiguous. When life gives you shitty people, write a story about them dying alone at the bottom of the ocean, and then read it to them in front of their peers.

Nissa Mitchell@nissamitchell.com

Remembering the time in third grade that a boy in my class was mean to me, so for our next creative writing assignment, I wrote a story about me and my friends touring the Titanic wreckage that ended with him being left behind at the bottom of the ocean. I got in trouble, but I stand by my art.

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I was forced to apologize to him. However, my teacher knew what had happened and it was clear she was just doing what she had to. I got the impression she was actually proud of me—if not also exasperated.