prismadrift's Guestbook

Sept 17 already feels like a day that's gonna stick in my brain

 

Two impossible tests waiting for me: U.S. History and French. I studied, I tried, I believed... kinda. Wednesdays are cursed because my time at school is shorter. Normally, I show up at 8:50. Wednesdays? 9:50. First period was U.S. History, test time. Open notes. Thirty questions. Four of them were basically free: #6, #17, #26, #30. I rushed, skimmed my notes, submitted. Got a 43%.

Yeah, forty-three percent. Garbage, but also... relief. Test over. Brain breathing again.

Advisory came next. Nothing happened. Chill. I actually appreciated the nothing.

ROTC time. Had to go to the MPR for uniforms. Five minutes to settle in. First Sergeant says form up. My uniform? Fine. Me? Adjusting my rank because I'm just like that. Squad leader tells us to parade rest for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Sweat everywhere. Arms cramped. Legs wanted to quit. I bent my knees so I wouldn't collapse. Internal thought: I just wanna live.

Meanwhile, two idiots decide to test the limits of ROTC tolerance. One of them, probably named Smith, has zero uniform on. Just... missing pieces like he's on a personal rebellion. First Sergeant doesn't play. Smith gets scolded. Most of the class are LET 1s. I've been here since 2023. Old enough to know the game, young enough to survive it. Finally, inspection ends. Sit down. Bliss.

Lunch: Pizza rolls. Every day. Always. I sit with friends because anti-social me isn't buying a ticket to that train. My feminine friend does my best friend's hair. Looks good at first. Then... not so much. Better in a bun. Social chaos: handled.

After lunch, best friend walks me to French class because social anxiety is real. Ten minutes to turn vocab into a one-pager. Test starts. Teacher said it'd be easier than Unit 2. True. Mostly. One prompt stumped me: describe classes and teacher. Someone asks "English or French?" I didn't ask. I just type. Teachers are mostly fair humans.

Clock says 2:34. Most people aren't done. Teacher says finish tomorrow. Cool.

Writing class: digital 17-page assignment due tomorrow. My brain: destroy everything.

School's supposed to end at 3:53. But plot twist: retake the 43% U.S. History test. Open notes, same questions, same notes... same score. Universe confirmed: nothing changes. Teacher bumps my grade because I came on my own time.

Get in the car. Beats headphones. Turn them on. One ear only. Left. Betrayal. Listen anyway. Survived. Day survived.

THE END.