Walk towards your friends, all sitting in a circle, familiar smiles betraying the slightest bit of fear. Books all around, notes strewn from side to side, your friends are either in deep concentration in their books or in the quick back and forth of last minute questions.
You look down at your bag and pull out your notes.
Might as well.
Bell rings.
We all move together towards to the hall.
As you descend the staircase, a familiar sight greets you.
A throng of people are gathered outside, some in silence, others contributing to the roar of conversation with inane comments or desperate questions.
You steal a quick glance into the hall.
The familiar sight never fails to strike fear into your heart.
A sea of orderly tables.
File by file.
Rank by rank.
All perfectly positioned.
Teachers are milling around them like honeybees to flowers, arranging question papers.
A teacher in front readies the clock. 3 hours.
You set down your bag, pulling out your stationary and calculator, your shaky hands showing fear and apprehension.
Years of school. Months of lessons. Days of homework. Hours of preparation. All leading up to this moment.
A teacher steps out and opens the door.
Best not to linger.
You hesitate crossing the threshold of the hall.
A teacher on stage hastens you to take your seat.
Rows and rows, you pick out yours and sit down nervously.
People walk past you.
The air is cold.
You look down, and upon your desk, multicolored pieces of paper, already deciding your future.
On command, hundreds of students follow instructions.
Name here. Class there. Sticker here.
Shading nervously, your circles are uneven as your hands shake.
The clock is set to 3 hours, how would you survive that?
Last 2 minutes to start. You sit there nervously, mind racing through what you learned yesterday. These 2 minutes feel like forever...
"Your time is 8.30am, you have 3 hours,
You may begin"
A hundred pages flipping at the same time makes a strange noise.
An unmistakable noise, like a gunshot, or a siren.
You flip the page.
Your mind goes blank.
Question after question falls to your pen.
Countless ovals are shaded.
Pages and booklets are filled in.
Hours fly by in your concentrated mental state.
Until 3 hours has suddenly became 15 minutes left to write.
The shakes are over. The tension is gone.
Times up.
You lean back in your seat.
Satisfied but worried.
The teachers begin their rounds, collecting papers like clockwork.
Glances are exchanged. A rare smile makes its appearance.
You're dismissed.
Hundreds of chairs scrape the floor.
You walk towards the door.
People pat backs and exchange opinions of the exam.
You briefly smile, but you remember.
Tomorrow's another day.
Tomorrow's another paper.
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