I typed up something for the school paper. 🙂


Copyright to me~♫

Life, Oh Life

by Andrae E. Rain

The weather person had lied.

There’s supposed to be school today!

In most cases, students such as myself would be rejoicing and thanking the skies for allowing them another day of freedom (read: PROCRASTINATING).

In my case, however, I want to crawl under a rock and die.

I had spent the whole night last night working my book report (today’s the deadline), doing my Physics homework (which is to type up a written report for my group’s investigative project—the others are claiming that they’re too ‘busy’ to help—today’s the deadline, too), preparing for my English I.P.A., typing up the conclusion for my baby thesis in Religion class (and printing it after—although I had trouble since my printer ran out of ink and I had to dash to the nearest 24-hour open type of computer shop to get it done),  practicing my routine for my P.E. practical exam, adding the finishing touches to my T.L.E. project, reading the last pages of Rizal’s El Filibusterismo (since I heard there’s supposed to be a long quiz today), fussing over how Visual Basic got on my nerves (before remembering that I don’t have my Computer class today), revising my notes in Economics while trying to rack my brains out since there’s a 50-item Trigonometry test today.

I ended up sleeping at 3:41 AM only to wake up about three hours later, barely making it to school before seven o’clock. I could vaguely remember what I did this morning. I had showered quickly, grabbed an apple from the tabletop (it’s enough for breakfast) while struggling in my uniform then I ran as quickly as I could to school (narrowly missing a wet pile of dog-poop along the way).

I have bags under my eyes and my legs feel like they’re going to fall off any moment. My hair is a mess and my face is incredibly sweaty. I forgot to bring a clean kerchief with me and I’ve a sad, strange feeling that I’ve forgotten something incredibly important.

In short, I look terrible.

Mixed emotions bubble up in my chest.

I want to throw up those five mugs of coffee from last night (I hated coffee—but I didn’t have any choice since I needed caffeine to help me stay up). I want to punch that mean ol’ weather person in the gut and I want to punch ‘im good. I want to repeatedly smash the (only) TV set in my house because I wasn’t able to catch the early morning news and my parents were still asleep (assuming that I’m old enough to wake up by myself and prepare for school). I want to scream about how much I hated the moody weather—when one night, it rains like there’s no tomorrow (the weather person claims that there’re still classes the next day) then suddenly, the next day turns out to be crisp but bright although classes had been cancelled. I want to blame my teachers for putting such important deadlines on the same day. I want to go all, “WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE SUFFERING LIKE THIS WHEN THE OTHER KIDS ARE PRACTICALLY DANCING WITH JOY?”

I want to smash my head against something (preferably a wall or a desk) until I’d realize that I’m making such a big fuss out of nothing.


The guard watches the Marian student sigh at the words written on the board.



The guard smiles, holding back an amused chuckle. “That kid probably won’t make it through today had the higher ups didn’t cancel classes.”

The person who beside him, his co-worker, raises a brow. “Why?” he asks.

“That kid doesn’t even have ‘is bag with ‘im.”


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