Me: High School Sophomore in the early 90's
Class: English
Book: The Lilies of the Field
Assignment: Write about what the main character (Homer) does after leaving the nuns he'd helped.
What I did: Wrote a hysterical (to me, at the time) story about how he went to South America in search of a mystical coffee with some made up Latin name which, when translated, meant "Grave-digging coffee that really stinks". I'm still proud of that line. His team of scientists (who all looked like "Billy" from The Far Side) were all killed in various ways while traversing the Amazon, all of them funny (to me, at the time). I was very, very happy with myself. Creative writing was fun.
Teacher: Rewrite it, be serious.
Me: Wrote some drivel that I hated, turned it in, got a lousy grade.
That stifled me for a long time, because it's been hard ever since to just let loose on a story. I criticize it every step of the way now. I find short form poetry (often as music lyrics) to be far simpler and just as expressive if not more so.