UPDATE:(
I had the assignment ready—formatted, saved, complete. I couldn’t make it to campus that day, so I gave it to a classmate and asked her to submit it to the assistant professor.
“Please, I’ll miss the final if this isn’t submitted.”
“Yeah, I got it,” she said casually.
That evening, no reply. The next morning, the eligibility list came out. My name wasn’t on it.
Panicked, I confronted her.
She just shrugged. “I forgot. Why didn’t you do it yourself?”
I rushed to the professor, laptop in hand, assignment untouched. I explained everything, begged to submit it late.
She didn’t even blink. “Deadlines are final.”
I took a final shot—went to the principal. He heard me out, then gave a second chance.
“One week. New topic.”
The new assignment was harder, rushed, and mentally draining. I met the deadline.
Now I’m in my second semester, juggling new subjects—while still stuck retaking that one paper. The syllabus has changed, it’s tougher, and I’m behind.
All because I trusted the wrong person—for just one assignment.