College Is Like A Chronic Migraine [Murder Drones Human College AU]

A Week Later

Uzi sat at her desk, her forehead furrowed in concentration as she stared blankly at the trigonometry textbook open in front of her. The words on the page seemed to blur together, forming an indecipherable jumble of numbers and symbols that mocked her efforts to make sense of them.

It had been a week since classes had started, and already Uzi was beginning to feel the pressure mounting as the workload increased and the deadlines loomed ever closer. And to make matters worse, her math teacher—a stern-faced woman with a penchant for handing out pop quizzes at the drop of a hat—had announced that they would be having their first test of the semester the following day.

Uzi groaned inwardly as she glanced around the classroom, taking in the sight of her classmates furiously scribbling notes and poring over their textbooks with a sense of grim determination. How she wished she could muster even a fraction of their enthusiasm for trigonometry, but try as she might, the subject seemed to elude her grasp at every turn.

But despite her reservations, Uzi had spent the past week studying diligently, pouring over her notes and working through practice problems late into the night. Surely, she thought to herself, all that hard work would pay off in the end.

Yet as the test paper was placed in front of her, Uzi felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The questions seemed to blur together, swirling around in her mind like a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. And try as she might, she couldn't seem to remember a single formula or theorem that she had spent so long trying to memorize.

With a shaky hand, Uzi picked up her pencil and began to fill in the blanks on the test paper, her heart sinking with each passing moment as she realized just how little she knew. The only thing she could remember with any degree of certainty was how to spell her own name—a fact that offered little solace in the face of her impending failure.

As the minutes ticked by, Uzi's anxiety only grew, her palms growing clammy as she struggled to make sense of the incomprehensible symbols staring back at her from the page. She glanced around the room, taking in the sight of her classmates bent over their desks in studious concentration, and couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at their apparent ease with the subject.

She was able to draw one correct solution, though: she was fucked.

* * *

N sat in the therapist's office, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap as he struggled to put his swirling thoughts into words. It was his third session with Dr. Harrison, yet despite their previous discussions, he still felt like he was no closer to finding the answers he sought.

"I just feel... stuck," N admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared down at his shoes, unable to meet Dr. Harrison's probing gaze. "Like I'm treading water, but I'm not getting anywhere."

Dr. Harrison leaned forward in his chair, his expression sympathetic as he listened intently to N's confession. "Tell me more about that," he prompted gently, his tone encouraging.

N took a deep breath, steeling himself as he delved into the depths of his own uncertainty. "I'm only taking core classes this year because I have no idea what I want to do with my life," he explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "I feel like I'm just going through the motions, without any real direction or purpose."

Dr. Harrison nodded thoughtfully, his pen poised over his notepad as he made a few quick notes. "And why do you think that is?"

N shrugged helplessly, the weight of his own indecision pressing down on him like a lead weight. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Maybe it's because I'm always thinking of others, but no one ever thinks of me. I haven't even had the time to do that."