She hated it with a passion. Hated that panic, that stress, with every nucletic acid that composed her whole being. The crack between tests, grown wider from resting days, exhausted her. Picking herself up from instinctive and mechanical brainworks proved itself to be utterly difficult, despite the popular belief that one should feel fully rested at the start of the week.
Thus, she learned to avoid the whole matter altogether.
At first, she only pretended to disregard; but without detection, her carelessness grew, until it finally overtook the master of its creation. It became a habit.
Oh how sweet oblivion could be.
But as all things that don't belong in the sky, one day they will fall, and nothing will save them from that harsh fall.
Oh how happy everyone was when she told a tale of an easy glide towards the blue, blue sky. Never did she mention that she never opened her wings to soar...
No, she did not lie about the ease in which she can glide in.
She merely fabricated and dwelled in her world for so long that she believed it to be true.
She had told herself countless times, "I'm just doing this because...", excusing herself from the guilt for not doing her best.
Sometimes, she wished she can just leave her world behind her.
Falling hurts. Her body impacted upon the ground, straining every nerve with guilt, shattering her daydreams....
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