I pray to myself silently as I await my next test score, a simple swish of the pen will determine my grade. I care about it, I watch the teacher anxiously as she passes out the papers. As she travels from table to table the cobra of anxiety around my neck tightens with every step she takes. My previous failures reminisce in the back of my mind creating an itch in the back of my skull. I dig my nails into the back of my scalp in hopes to get rid of the burdensome itch. Flakes of dandruff crawl under my nails like stress inflicted bugs. No matter how hard I scratched and clawed at my scalp the itch would not go away, not until I saw my score. I care so much about it, my throat becomes dry as the cobra of anxiety squeezes my neck tighter. I scrape and pry at the back of my scalp, as the voices began to pour in like water from a broken dam. Yet all of the uneasiness of my own impatience suddenly stopped when my name was called out. I pried my hand away from my scalp and the cobra loosened its grip for a brief moment along with the voices coming to an unsettling silence. I turned around slowly to face the teacher, her expression was the familiar disappointment when she faced my paper. She pulled it out of the stack and turned it to the ground as she handed it to me. Her sympathetic eyes reached my own for a moment before turning away as if to say "you never learn" I hesitantly turn the paper to me to witness my grade. The cobra created a noose like hold around my neck almost making me gag for air, the itch entered my senses once more sending an indescribable feeling across my body. The voices became so loud I could barely hear the voices in the room. Fail, you failed, again. I tightened my grip on the paper in my hands, creating creases below my fingers. Another failure, and I cared so much.
