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Hello, my cute little bubs.

You know, when I stepped into this new phase of life, I was determined. Focused. Maybe it wasn’t the happiest phase, but it wasn’t the worst either. Class 11 was never easy, but still I held on, telling myself—don’t lose hope. After those terrible academic years, when once being a topper meant even a single mark used to hurt… and now? Now even passing marks felt like enough. I destroyed my own Class 10 with my own hands. And yet, it wasn’t all bad—it gave me memories, it gave me friends who would die for me. But my academics? Let’s not talk about that.

When I entered Class 11, I was crystal clear: achieve your position back, be the topper again, the one everyone loves. And yes, everyone adores me, not just because of marks but because of my extrovert nature. They say I never make them feel like it’s the first time we’re meeting. And I thought—yes, this is it. This is my redemption. But life? Life throws lemons at every unit test. I rose, I scored highest, the same girl who used to hide behind toppers suddenly stood tall. Teachers recognized me, they smiled at me, they loved me. And I was happy—so, so happy.

Exams began. My first exam went well, I was glowing with hope. Chemistry wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t bad either. But today—today was the exam of my favourite subject, the one I was waiting for, the one I had poured myself into. I entered that classroom with fire in my chest—you will rock it, babe. And then the question paper came. And I froze. Numb. This wasn’t what we studied. This wasn’t what we were taught. Out of syllabus. A complete betrayal. I looked around, and I knew—every one of us was trapped in the rivalry of two teachers, two egos, and it was us who had to bleed for it.

And at that moment, hope slipped out of my hands. I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask—why us? Why me? Why after working so hard? And I don’t know what to feel anymore. Anger, hurt, betrayal—it’s all tangled up inside me. Maybe I’m losing hope. No, not maybe. I am.

Your author❤️