Tons of papers were strewn across my bed, each one containing knowledge that I will need to know in about four hours or by tomorrow for three exams and then my one lap top that I got last year when I first started school at this university sat on my bed right beside me, opened up to an essay that needs proof reading; it’s due in one hour when my evening classes start. My black ‘nerd’ glasses sat on my nose as I picked up one part of a study guide for psychology, furrowing my eyebrows in concentration as I read over the sheet of paper for the hundredth time. There were important things that I needed to remember for the psychology test- the first one I’m taking- and it’s probably clear to anyone who has befriended me this past year and a half that I’m stressed out. It happens every time I have a test, or tests.
Merida, my sweet roommate of mine who I love to death, says I have test anxiety which I used to refuse to believe until I almost had a panic attack once because of a single test last year. So now it’s confirmed that I have test anxiety after going to the doctor about it- I was forced by my dear roommate- and now Merida watches me when I study for tests; which reminds me to why she is sat on my green bing bag on my side of the dorm playing on her phone. The dorm is actually quite big compared to others that I’ve seen- there was enough room between the two beds and then a tiny bathroom as well.
Sighing, I lifted my glasses off of my face and put them on top of my head and let the one piece of paper from my psychology study guide fall infront of me on to either my English study guide or my French study guide. I needed to take a short break.
“Finally taking a break?” Merida asked.
I just shrugged and leaned back onto the headboard of my bed. “Yeah. I’m so thankful some of my classes are in the evening.”
Merida looked up from her phone and towards me saying, “Which classes, again?”
“Um… French and Psychology. I’ve just got to run my essay for one of my mental health classes to the teacher before one, which is an hour.” I paused and looked at the four page long essay that explains some mental disporders that caught my interest.
Merida chuckled and locked her phone before looking at me. “I like how you actually don't hate that class."
I just laughed and nodded, agreeing with her.
We both went quiet then and after a few minutes I just decided to print the damn paper out and not worry too much about it; I have a hundred in that class at the moment and surely this won’t bring that grade down much if I just get a low B. Quickly, I grabbed my laptop and walked over to the printer that Merida and I share, plugging it into the wall and the laptop itself before turning it on and pressing the ‘print’ button after finding it.
I then left the computer and printer to do its thing, walking back to my bed and sorting out every single piece of paper on my bed. The French study guide papers went together at the end of my bed, then the psychology study guide papers beside them, and finally all the English papers beside the psychology papers. After organizing them and making sure I nothing was misplaced I walked back to the printer and turned it off once seeing that my essay had been printed. I grabbed the essay and my laptop, walking back to my bed where I sat down and grabbed the stapler on my bedside table, and finally stapling the long essay together.
Merida, after realizing that I wasn’t studying, got up and grabbing one of the study guides for one of my tests. I watched her as she flipped through the papers before finding one question and sitting infront of me on my bed.
“What’s a feral child?” she asked.
I groaned and leaned back on the headboard. “I don’t know,” I lied, I honestly didn’t want to say it in case I got it wrong.
