Srictch, scratch, scritch...cough...sigh...tip tap, tip tap...clak clak clak...sigh...I felt superhuman; all my senses seemed highlighted by the quiet. I heard Linda chewing gum across the room; heard teachers walking by in the hallway; heard papers rustling as my peers flipped pages. And inside I roiled.
Butterflies alighted and tickled the walls of my stomach; bile rose in my throat; my head was being drilled into; I was going into cardiac arrest; I was going to throw up; I-
"Brrrriiiinnnggg!" the bell heralded the end. Crud. Uhhh....A, B, B, D, C, B, A, A, D-
"Time's up," Mr.Clemens called. I sighed. I floded my test over, put down my pencil and brought my test and answer sheet and brought it to the front. I didn't want to let it go, but I did. Why in the world did I think staying up light watching a Star Wars marathon was a good idea? Now I would fail the midterm and, and...eh, whatever. I had an A in the class anyway, freaking out really wouldn't change anything. Still...I mentally sighed while I picked up my books. I hate math.
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