Sunday, April 17, 2011

Avalanche of Emotion

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Jennifer was 17. It was an age she had been looking forward to ever since her wild childhood. This was a time where she expected to be basking in the glorified radiance of youth. However, ridden with a flood of despair as she glared at the daunting haunted house of homework sitting on her desk, her sanity dangled by a thread.

The storm of math problems drove Jennifer into the cataclysm of despair. Punching numbers into her mind, the cyclone of numbers wouldn't cease their flurry of assaults. Many times the thought would cross her mind, "Maybe I'll just stop here and get part marks", but the looming test would create a titan of a shadow over Jennifer as she had already dug herself abysmally deep into a trench of bad grades.

It would be a long and cold night, as Jennifer could feel herself thrashing against the intense blizzard of time. Her clock, sitting in what seemed the most gloomy corner of the room, ticked with a creeping venom of obnoxiousness.

She could feel the atomic force of pressure weighing down on her. Drinks of water would sink into her mouth with the weight of the Titanic. The glacier of inevitable demise elegantly approached Jennifer, glaring at her like a typhoon of cobras, and within the math problems, Jennifer was already as lost as a wolf in sheep's clothing without its teeth and claws.

Math. Never in her life had she experienced such a threatening subject. As she glanced back at the countdown displayed on her clock, the guillotine of stress began to surface from the dark, swampy pools of her mind. The fissure of fear slowly engulfed Jennifer like a black hole, while the noose of math problems wouldn't let her go. She became swallowed by the flames of difficult homework problems with an upcoming test.

The sizzling of pencil lead upon her papers would be seared and branded in her mind, and a hurricane of regret washed over her.

"Why didn't I start preparing earlier?"

Jennifer's attention span began to waiver in a tornado of lament, and finally, the winds of parental expectations blew Jennifer into a hypnotic, mesmerized state of despair.

Her saviour would be the most unlikely candidate; the obnoxious ticking clock. For just a moment, to signal the start of another heartless and mindless hour, the clock beeped an omnipotent, almighty sound, and like a lightning bolt of understanding, Jennifer shocked herself back into concentrating on her homework.

Frantically, like fleeting gazelle on the Savannah, Jennifer rushed through the barren plain of problems. She was removed from time, and possibly even space, and flew through the homework like a fighter jet piloted by Chuck Norris. Ripping a wormhole of efficiency and productivity through her room, Jennifer was approaching the axis of completion with regards to her homework.

However, one last coliseum of an obstacle stood before her. It was the ever elusive bonus-hard-question-that-you'll-never-be-able-to-answer-according-to-the-teacher question. If she could solve this, she would arrive at the pinnacle of mathematical understanding for the test, and could finally buy and raise a puppy.

Eventually, it proved difficult, but after razor sharp perseverance, Jennifer triumphed over the bonus-hard-question-that-you'll-never-be-able-to-answer-according-to-the-teacher question.

Feeling the fireworks of success, Jennifer collapsed onto her bed like a badly built bridge into water. She checked her phone, and suddenly realized something was amiss.

She understood that her test was on "tomorrow", but somehow, the number showing past midnight corresponded more towards "today", than "tomorrow". Then, like a freight train on a damsel in distress, it hit her. Since she had started her homework after midnight, she thought that "tomorrow" was actually "today". Overcome by a tsunami of realization that her test was indeed "tomorrow" after "today", or in other terms "two days after yesterday", or in other terms "one more night of sleep between the midnight that just passed and the test", or in other terms...

Jennifer then cried a waterfall of tears before locking herself into a deep sleep.

Through this experience, Jennifer would wake up every morning knowing how an avalanche of emotion feels.