The following content contains triggering content such as self harming. Viewer discretion is advised.
/ Audrey Tan hasn't got everything. Everyone else did. At 16, she's disfigured after an incident in school. Now, she has to try her best to cope w...
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Almost there.
So damn fucking close.
It is nearing August. The exams are almost here. Bringing two things with it: the actual paper I'll have to sit for, and the practical exams that comes like a complimentary gift with it. It's like when you were 5 years old and innocent and all you wanted was a Barbie doll for Christmas - instead you got a bag full of coal and a fat slap across the face. It feels like that. I am not speaking from experience, I swear.
It is almost something that I am very tempted to skip. Unforturnately, it takes up a major percentage of my actual final result - so there's that. The good part is that it happens a few weeks before the official exam, so once it is finished, I could leave it in the past and never look back.
Before that, the cohort has been filled with anticipation. endless remedial and extension classes for a variety of subjects - mathematics, biology, chemistry, history, second language...
Okay, I feel like I'm going to gag.
How unfortunate.
My chemistry practical will happen two weeks from now. 10:30am. Exactly 48 hours later.
Right now, as I sit in the second row of my history lesson, I am beginning to doze off when my desk mate pokes my hips with the sharp tip of her mechanical pencil.
The sharp pain jerks me awake immediately, and I hiss softly under my breath, jerking my body away from her. She giggles, biting her lips to hide her grin.
"What?"
"Do you want to hear a joke?" She asks, rolling and twirling the pen in her hand like the expert she is. Of course, after being her desk mate for 2 years, I know it didn't come easy. The first few months were torture, listening to her million pen drops against the table, and her strings of incoherent swearing under her breath. It took 2 years for her to be able to twirl the pen at least 4 times in a row without falling. Though, it is annoying sometimes; but somewhere deep in my heart, I'm kind of proud of her.
"Sure," I answer. There was really nothing else I can do anyways. My history teacher is a boring, boring man. His voice is as flat as a disk. From all the lessons I've had with him, the only true thing I gathered from him was that Stalin hated Trotsky - And the only way I knew Stalin was because of the history films my father forced me to watch.
"Hit me." I smirk.
"Okay," she grins. 'What do you call a laughing jar of mayonnaise?"
I blink, then shake my head. She looks at me, and then a smile peek through.
"Lmayo."
I throw my head back, letting out a silent laughter, holding my hand to my mouth to hide my grin.
"Okay," I let out a wheeze. "That was a good one."
"You want another one?" She grins, showing off her pearly white teeth. I've always been jealous of that, how she didn't need braces and her teeth just grew as if they knew how to grow to fit into the social beauty standards. How I wished my teeth were as smart as that.
