The inevitable
I wake up to the sight of various books and notes scattered around me. Each book was accompanied by a pencil perched on its top in an unstable posture. I shut down my eyes almost as quickly as I had opened not wanting to get up from the peaceful slumber. As I allowed myself to move a bit to reposition myself on my messed up bed my backbone met a sharp stinging sensation, which pushed me more towards the emerging consciousness from my sleep although I was still not entirely awake. I moved my hand erratically yet lazily beneath my back to find out where the hell that pain had came from. After several encounters of my hand with nothing but the air, my fingers caught hold of the thing that had disturbed my sleep.
It was a pen.
Grimacing, I hurled it away on the bed as soon as possible. I was so annoyed with myself for not cleaning up my bed before proceeding to sleep and then it hit me that I didn’t even get the time to ‘proceed ’ for sleep. I was studying last night and was quite drained for the day that I had fallen asleep amidst my studies, without getting the chance to make up my bed. That’s what happens when you don’t study the whole semester and only open your notes in the last week before your exams. Moreover, as comfortable as a bed can be it is never good for studies.
I realized this today.
- Never ignore your studies.
- Never study in bed.
My exams were just a week away and I was busy burning midnight oil last night but maybe I overestimated my potential to actually burn the midnight oil because I never even made it to burn half of the oil. Hah, funny. I know.
The sudden murmurs from the living room forced me to sit wide awake on my bed because even though I wasn’t able to completely understand the conversation going on between my parents I somehow recognized the confusion and horror in them. My contemplation about the seriousness of the situation was confirmed when I saw my mother suddenly rushing towards the main gate of the house in an attempt to get out and move towards the car. My dad followed her acting a little composed. A sudden terror ran across my spine. I grew anxious and got up from my bed immediately. My thoughts were jumbled but a part of me was familiar with the type of confusion going on in my head. I hated that I was thinking about it. I prayed the reality to be different than my mind was implying right now. I prayed all the way as I sprinted from my room, through the living room, and towards my Dad who was about to leave now. Even when I got there I kept on praying not to see the terrified look in my Dad’s eyes. As soon as I got hold of my father’s arm and frantically asked him about all the fuss going on without saying a single word, I saw something in his eyes that was a lot more horrific than the terror I was expecting.
There was sadness in his eyes, followed by a silent apology for giving me that look.
He tilted his head in confirmation about the situation and left instantly after that, leaving me dumbfounded as I allowed the reality to seep in.
I don’t know for how long I stood there knowing things will never be the same now.
