The New World Project

Chapter 2: The Results

It all started on the day of The Results.

For me, that day begun with Mum and Dad being away, doing some government-y stuff in Canverra. In all honesty, I'd never really known what it was that they did when they were away on their 'business trips.' I knew that they worked for the United Nations, and that they worked together. In previous moments of complete boredom or insanity, I had actually attempted to question my parents about their frequent holidays, but – according to them – their dealings were 'confidential.' I interpreted this as them being too exhausted from their trips to tell me. I didn't mind.

This particular business trip spanned for no less than two weeks, which was a complete and utter nightmare for a constant-nervous-wreck like me, who was charged with managing Jasper, my brother, and Stanley Fish, our spoodle, without a babysitter for the first time.

Just so you know, at this point in time, life wasn't great for me. I was falling asleep at 3am every night because I couldn't stop the vortex of depressing and anxiety-inducing thoughts circling through my mind, and the risk of an onslaught of panic in social settings was at an all-time high. Life wasn't super pleasant, but there was one distinct feature of living that I found incredibly enjoyable, and that was our dog, Stanley Fish. The name, by the way, was pieced together by Jasper and I; 'Stanley' because that was my dentist's name; and 'Fish' because Jasper was still slowly learning to speak, and he was in the midst of his Marine Animals Phase (which was closely followed by the Dinosaur Phase, the Outer Space Phase and the Insect Phase.)

Stanley Fish's existence, however, did not stop the fact that I was watching the house alone; the same house that I – more often than not – irrationally feared may be inhabited by more than just our family, or somehow under extreme risk of attack. To give you some insight, I normally sleep with my bedroom lights on, and even then will only sleep for a couple hours. And that's when my parents are home. Combine this with the responsibility of looking after an eight-year-old brother who'd rather not communicate, and you've got a very fun fortnight.

The date of the test fell on the eighth day of this shitty experience. It was a Monday, which was usually a fantastic thing, as I normally had Art, Media, double Maths and double English. However, today was not an ordinary Monday. It was the day when, unbeknownst to us, we would receive results for the exam that would change – or end – our lives.

I took the bus to school that morning, accompanied by Jasper, who sat unobtrusively beside me as we rode through Upper Coomera, the quintessence of Australian suburbia. He hummed quietly under his breath as I tapped my fingers rapidly against my thigh, mentally preparing for the social challenges of the day ahead. I mean, I had friends, for sure. But no best friends. And I was liked enough that I always had a group to sit with, but not liked enough to ever really be part of it. It wasn't because I was anti-social or anything; I did try. But I tried a little too hard; I was just a little too loud and a little too obnoxious and far too aware of it when I'd get home that night and replay that day's social failings over and over and over in my head.

The bus eventually slowed down to Coast Anglican School, the school I'd been attending for the past ten years. My first task of the morning was dropping Jasper off at his third grade classroom, where one of the specialist teachers met us at the door. After receiving no response to my attempted goodbye, I trekked to the Senior Secondary campus, where I then had to wrestle my incredibly oversized backpack into an incredibly undersized locker. The bell rung precisely as I kicked the school-standard bag into the tiny space, and I hurriedly grabbed what I needed for double Maths. I'd forgotten my calculator (again), and my pencil case (no surprise there), and cursed myself for it while hoping Evie – the favourite of my classmates and fellow debaters – had brought hers.