Hello people of the world who read this! The past term has been so incredibly hard on me! Eleventh grade is tough. Yup, it's even more difficult than tenth grade which was hard enough. Actually, tenth grade seems like heaven in comparison to all of this! To top it all off, I had one event after the other creating a sort of domino effect on me and to top it all off, my internet connection went to hell.
Thakfully, it's working now and my hols have also started. Anyway, hope you people enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas and happy reading, folks!
13. Oh my God! I'm mad! I'm actually having a conversation with myself.
Wasn't feeling too well so, I didn't go to school.
Actually, the real reason was that Dad threw a major hissy fit last night and declared that I haven't been studying AT ALL for the past few months and therefore, I stand no chance of passing my half-yearlys! He added that if I continue doing this for the next couple of months I won't stand a chance at passing in any examination, let alone my ICSEs!
So, what do I do when I sit down with my books?
According to Dad's theory, I don't do anything. I just mope around the house and loll on the couch watching the telly which would be a more accurate description of what he does on weekends than what I do.
It's been barely four months since this year started and I've already got the feeling that this is going to be one loooong year. High school just hammers you flat. I don't know about the rest of the world, but where I am, high school sure does that.
It's kind of strange, actually.
All the time back in middle school and all the time before that, I used to think high school was some sort of utopia where senior girls brought their phones to school, were given an unthinkable amount of freedom (unthinkable by my standards back then, mind you) and were taught highly important subjects with long and important sounding names like Trigonometry and Chemistry.
Turns out, it's not.
High school is dystopia, not utopia.
The only mention of utopia in high school (the senior section of my school, that is) is heard when you're being taught The Reformation in ninth grade History and the description of what heaven is like (utopia's a heavenly place, right?) in tenth grade or ninth grade Bengali, depending on which grade you've got that particular story in.
Anyhow, an incredibly offbeat thing happened today.
Offbeat as in me accidentally acing my Maths paper kind of offbeat. Something that has a chance of happening but doesn't, usually.
I was torturing my poor little brain into cramming as many of the History chapters as I could when my granddad yelled from upstairs that someone had rang up and was asking for me.
I told my dad (he stayed home today to monitor my studying, can you believe it?!) that I was going to answer the call and he smirked and said, "Who's going to answer your teachers when they ask why you've successfully managed to flunk in History?! Not me. YOU! Just as you're going to answer this call of yours now!"
Then, dad's yelling made granddad tell whoever was on the phone that "She is incredibly busy studying as her boards are coming up this year and would like to spend every waking moment to prepare for that."
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The Diary of a Usually Unusual TeenagerTeen Fiction
Hey, whoever's reading. This is the crazy diary of an even crazier fourteen year old girl. And that's me, Ramona. I'm one of those people who prefers to stand out rather than fit in. To not go with the flow. Or as I say, I prefer to row upstream...