17 april 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2709: don’t plagiarize

The red notification dot appeared on my phone at exactly 2:14 AM. A message from Professor Elliot.
"I need to speak with you regarding your final paper. My office. 9 AM."
That's when I knew I was screwed.
I hadn't slept in three days. The final paper for Literary Analysis was due yesterday, and I'd been putting it off for weeks. Between my part-time job at the campus coffee shop and helping Mom after her surgery, I just couldn't find the time.
So I did what any desperate college kid would do. I found an obscure essay online about Joyce's "Dubliners" and reworked it. Changed some words. Restructured paragraphs. Added my own introduction and conclusion.
It wasn't copying, I told myself. It was... inspiration.
Now it was the middle of the night, and I was staring at that message, my stomach turning over itself.
I dragged myself to his office the next morning. Professor Elliot was already there, glasses pushed up on his forehead, rubbing his eyes.
"Hey, um, you wanted to see me?" I said, hovering in the doorway.
"Trey. Come in." He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "You want to tell me what happened with your paper?"
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
"Look—" he leaned forward, "I've been teaching for seventeen years. I know when something isn't a student's work."
"I can explain," I started, but could I really?
"The thing is," he said, "your writing in class is actually good. Your discussions show insight. So why did you submit this... pastiche of someone else's ideas?"
My face burned. "I was—I got behind and—" I stopped. "I'm sorry."
He nodded slowly. "You know this is an automatic fail."
"I know."
"But," he continued, "I'm going to give you a choice. Fail the assignment, or write a new paper. Right now. In my office. I'll give you an hour."
"Right now?"
"Right now. No phone, no internet. Just you and your brain and what you actually think about Joyce."
"But I can't—"
"You can," he cut me off. "And you will, or you fail my class. Your original thoughts are worth more than someone else's borrowed ones, Trey. Even if they're not as polished. Even if they're imperfect."
I sat there for a second. "Can I have some paper?"
He pushed a legal pad across the desk and pointed to the clock. "One hour. Don't plagiarize."
I picked up the pen. Took a deep breath. And started to write.

Posted Using INLEO