School was boring, as usual.
The lights casting a dull, white glare over the classroom. The sound of the AC buzzing, helping the heat inside the classroom, and the afternoon sun filtered lazily on the windows. The hum of the teacher's voice droned on, just a background noise to the scribbling of pencils and the occasional laughs from other classmates.
I stared at the board, filled with lectures, wishing I was anywhere else. Another day of pointless lectures, another pile of homework to tackle after class. It was always the same.
“Don’t forget, the exams start next week,” the teacher’s voice suddenly cut through the monotony. A few students shifted in their seats, muttering under their breath, of course, I was one of those students. Exams—the word alone was enough to send a pang of annoyance through the room, but I felt indifferent about it. I've survived countless exams before, and this one was just another hurdle to jump over. Again, and, again, and, again..
Or was it?
Lately, something felt off. Not just about the exams, but about everything. There was this weird sensation, like the world around them wasn’t quite real. Moments of déjà vu had been happening more frequently—times when I could swear I already lived through the exact same moment, or when people I had just talked to seemed to... vanish.
But that was ridiculous, right? It was probably just stress from the exams creeping in. That’s what everyone said, anyway.
The teacher dismissed, snapping the me out of my thoughts. Time for my last class, finally, but as I stuffed the books of my last lecture in my bag, a strange feeling gnawed at the back of my mind. Like something important had just happened, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.
Shaking it off, I head out the room to throw a crumpled sheet of paper. The usual chaos of students bumping into each other was enough to annoy me more. As I stood in front of the garbage bin, I couldn't help but forget what I was going to do.
I searched my hands, pockets, everywhere. What the hell was I doing just now? After cursing myself for being forgetful and stupid, I went back in the classroom. Everything looked normal. Felt normal.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing something. Something big.
.
.
.
Class officers asking for the funds was enough to become like a bell ringing for dismissal, as the treasurer called my name, I walked over to the front to pay.
When will this stop? I couldn't even get a tricycle to go home because of how many funds I've been paying for. I packed my things into my bag before glancing over to my shoulder. My seatmate—weren't they just there a minute ago?
Something was really nagging in my mind. It wasn’t the exams exactly. It was something else, like an itch they couldn’t quite scratch. Like some kind of dream. Sometimes, in the middle of a lecture, I would catch myself zoning out, and when I came back, there was a strange sensation—as if something or someone had disappeared. Although I couldn't put my finger on it.
Maybe it was the heat, or maybe just exam stress.
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