PMR- Third Day

I had a terrible dream last night, and long story short, I dreamt that I lost everyone I love and it was horrible, so I woke up feeling pretty bad.

I realised I haven’t really described in detail how PMR is carried out. I arrive at school at around 7.20am every morning, then catch a few cramming minutes at the canteen, where everyone is gathered before entering the school hall. The first paper is usually 8.10am so all of us queue up according to classes right at the very front of the canteen with Teacher Zarina trying to get us to shut up and the principal gives a speech thereafter. Then, we make way to the school hall.

Not gonna lie, I look forward to enter the school hall every time. It’s air conditioned, and for the first time in my three years of schooling in Asma School, I actually felt cold wearing my prefect uniform.

Science paper 1 was easy, I finished it very quickly.

After that we had an hour plus long break, and out of nowhere, I started to weep, but tried to pass it off as a runny nose. I didn’t know where this came from. I wasn’t mad, but I ignored my friends and felt hot-tempered. I just felt really, really sad and awful so I was quiet the whole time.

Science paper 2 was completely out of the syllabus, very unlike the format we had during out trial and previous exams, so, many freaked out and said it was really difficult, but to be honest I thought it was pretty okay, and that my answers made sense, syllabus or not so why wouldn’t they accept it?

Science paper 2 ended at 12pm, and we had lunch, rest, and studied until 2pm, where we were gathered once again before entering the hall. History started at 2.30pm and it was fairly easy too. I realised I’ve been very lax when sitting for my papers. Not really bothering to check again and again, convinced that I’ll manage to scrape a simple A anyway.

It’s Thursday and we’re on a break on Friday, Saturday and Sunday (we resume on Monday and Tuesday) which makes me slightly happy. Dad says I can get a day off today so I’m probably going to cut out some lyrics or make a collage later.

PS. Happy birthday, Shi Qian!

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Author: Michelle Teoh

23-year-old cynical Asian, book enthusiast and purveyor of fine sarcasm.

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