18/80 it was. I was never good at accounts. I felt like ending everything. All these marks, all the dreams, and all the expectations. I fastened a noose, for something. I was out of my mind. Then I remembered the faces back at home.
I don’t remember anything after that. I woke up to see my sister clearing my bookshelf. Stood up firm and headed out of my room. I saw my mother. Pale faced. In fact, everyone had their faces hung down, like I wronged everyone of them. How could I tell them, that I wasn’t capable of doing better? No one was talking to me. I guess, everyone’s expections were shattered. Even the clocks seemed to be limboed.
Then I realized I could work harder, and try harder, and at least then I could say that I tried but it didn’t work out. We realize things, don’t we? I gasped, looking at my mom’s face. She was about to cry, and the sight was painful. As she stretched her arms wide, I ran to embrace her, only to see dad falling on her shoulder to weep. I could not feel my feet touching the floor. I felt no mass.
We do realize things. Sooner or later. It was the teakwood framed mirror I was standing in front, and it didn’t reflect me.