The pressure of my family name redundantly weighs itself on my already burdened shoulders. I walk through the doors of the university, which very much felt like the gates of hell. I felt my parents support as their eyes burn themselves onto my back. But going through these doors completely nullified all of that support. Beyond these doors is me, the only person who could do anything in the world about anything is me. My reluctant eyes wander through the corridors and halls when they finally rest on a young man. This young man, around my age presumable, is very calm. His demeanor is of a man who is prepared. His image burns on my mind. I wish I feel as prepared as he is.
The cafeteria, unsurprisingly enough, was even worse. Before I walk in, I feel all the suspense and pressure put on hold. Talking is evident on the other side, conversing would definitely calm my mind down. Sitting down alone in a secluded corner, I quietly eat my lunch. The chattering of the people around me slightly calms me down. Slowly, but steadily, I feel more in place and the exam doesn’t feel like a big hurdle to overcome anymore. The bell rings. The exam is about to begin.
An insignificant looking set of papers sit in front of me. As I stare at it, it is as if it is saying that it didn’t mean anything. They are just regular pieces of paper, just like the ones I have at home. This ordinary piece of paper is about to decide if I would be a person of worth or if I would be exactly like my parents who dropped out of high school. The loud exam inspector introduces himself and explains the rules of the examination to everyone. Despite his intense and powerful voice, I failed to perceive the simplest words. Of advice, of consequence, none could reach my dutiful mind. Self-consciousness and self-pity floods it. I start paying attention to other insignificant things around me, as if to waste my time. I take a look at how my neighbors arranged themselves in their places. The image of the quiet boy returns to my mind. I hurriedly arrange myself into a respectable position as the inspector finishes his unbelievably long speech.
As the exam begins, I find things to look at while thinking. And there he is, my perfect object to observe whilst I am thinking over problems. I decide to call him McNerd. He seems very composed and his face is filled with absolute confidence. His composure, regrettably, destroys whatever little spirit I have left. This is very much comparable to when I had my first confession. Her words were quiet but deadly. As she said them, it was as if she carefully picked out the words that would have hurt me the most. Those words shattered my manhood, my manliness, and my manly pride. I felt the sole of her right foot in my treasure. Then in a series of seemingly endless blows, her friends took turns throwing insults at me.
I panic as I have wasted so much time reminiscing. But my worries fade away as quickly as they came. I breeze through the pages of the exam like reading an enjoyable book. Each question adds a little to my building ego. Such simple obstacles won’t be able to stop me from fulfilling the dreams of my parents. I feel proud as I think of the words I would use tonight when I told them how easy this exam was.
As the last few minutes of the exam approach, I dwell myself in carefully checking my answers. McNerd is finishing up his checking as well. However, I regret ever seeing the answer sheet that is obviously shown to everyone. He could have waved it around in the air and yell words, but people would not have noticed it as much as this. His paper looks completely different from mine. Because of his appearance and calmness, I feel an obligation to go over my answers all over again. It seems like every question has a new and different answer. Not only that but each answer seems and feels much better an answer than its predecessor. His paper is still insight, I could barely see it. I could just see all of his answers. And then I finally came to a reasonable conclusion to what I would do.
It has been three months since that incident. I still live a happy and content life, perhaps even more so than before the exam. I wake up in the morning and still feel that same obligation to go to school. That moment in time where I had to choose between what seems like a justice road and an easy road, I have never regretted picking one. I chose to believe in the answers I chose the first time around. McNerd got high marks though. I remember talking to him after getting the results. After sharing the feeling of distress, he told me that he was the same. We became close friends afterwards, it seems like he was just a person like me. I find it ironic that my picture of him was the complete opposite of what I had expected from one so composed, and he felt that same of me as well. I failed that exam though. I will be working a full-time job at my dad’s little repair shop until my next chance comes along. I carefully spend my nights doing little studying, sometimes with my little McNerd.
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