Finals were right around the corner, and my mind was off busy preparing for graduation and life beyond school. It was unreal to think that my years of being locked in this place were nearly over - only a month or so. I was scared, and had started to be more attentive in my classes. Teachers were now harping on students to get in their assignments early and to prepare portfolios for universities - and to apply for them too. Along with assignments and other forms of torture called "assessment tasks" we had started preparing for our finals by completing even more practice exams during and after school.

I had no clue which direction I would go in after high school. It was funny really, to think about how much time is spent in school preparing for the outside world, only to have no real experience or background information when you were catapulted into it. Most people in my year level had a sketchy idea of their life beyond school; most wanted to get into university, some wanted to travel for a year and others already had their jobs planned out - such as those wanting to pursue a music career or those who wanted to continue on to an apprenticeship.
I, along with a few others, were regularly seeing the school careers councillor, trying to get more ideas. She wasn't much help, even back in years ten and eleven, telling me to pursue subjects that I had an interest in and not to worry about course requirements for university. Now that that time had rolled around, I was barely scraping by in my subjects and they were a mismatched pile of knowledge, much like a toddler's "creative" drawing that is a few different colour crayon squiggles on a blank page.

I sat up straighter in my seat and stared at the projector, trying to take notes in my music class. I tapped my pen on my book and wrote down a few fleeting notes, after all, the teacher would then go through this again with us and point out the most important bits so that we were least likely to fail.

I had abandoned my seat next to Alan nearly two months ago after our public row in the hallway where I broke up with him sounding like a complete idiot at the time. Nobody went near me, and I hadn't heard from Jessica in a month and a bit. She had taken the hint and finally backed off, finding a new group of friends to hang out with until the end of the year. I saw her at lunch times the most, sitting at a table with the same people, and whenever I walked past them they were all talking about the same thing. It seemed boring, but then again I was never one for large groups to socialize with.

My days at school were uneventful, full of studying sessions at lunch and my time at home were even less eventful, afternoons spent cooking with my mum and listening to music on full blast, dancing around the kitchen and convincing myself I was having a good time. I put on a smile for my mum's sake; she didn't have to become a part of my suffering. My nights were spent studying, cramming formulas into my head and memorising large blocks of text that made my desk my bed and my textbook my pillow.

I yawned in class and tried hard to focus on the wobbling projection, my eyelids becoming heavier with each blink. I was slipping in and out of dozing, with my dead state being interrupted by the shrill ringing of the bell. I sighed and stumbled out of the classroom, making a mental note of the homework my teacher yelled over the sound of scraping chairs and chatter between students.

I entered my house forty five minutes later, deciding to walk home rather than hop of the bus. It would keep me awake, at least.

'Diana,' my mother greeted me, 'come here, please.' I did as I was told, sitting across from her at the wood table, my bag sitting outside my room. 'How's it going at school? How's Jess?' She asked with an eagle sharp eye, picking up on my quick intake of breath and watching as I scrambled to make up some sort of lie. An eyebrow raised a second later had me spilling the truth.

'Diana, you shouldn't do that.' My mother scolded me, softly. I yawned and her expression softened even more. 'Go to sleep; you're dead on your feet.' I gratefully shuffled off to my room, collapsing on the bed that had not touched my skin in several days, my head hitting the pillow, feeling as though it was stuffed with bird feathers rather than the hard rocks that it was filled with in reality.

Notes

Title cred:Memories Of A Broken Heart - Crown the Empire
So, this was a filler. Yup.