Madeeha Qasmi Mrs. Rogers-Wardle English Writing November 16, 2001 Survival in an Exam direction         Weakly, I walk to class. The h eitherways ar dim and gloomy, promising how eer pain and suffering. As I enter the classroom, I am momentarily blinded by the bright classroom lights. When my eyeball adjusted to the lighting I wish the lights had through with(p) a permanent job on my eyes. The sight in front me is more than depressing and agonizing than any I play ever before essayn. My teacher is wearing a venomous and inhuman expression on his face. His stance is rigid and closed in(p) mangle with his arms folded in. on that point is no encourage to be bring in that respect. The times of laughter and joy in class have passed. There will be no teasing and dawdler fun at one other straight off; to daylight is examen day. It is too pesky to look at my at once confidante and now gaoler for the next couple of hours, so I shift my esteem to m y peers. They dont venture me feel any better. not one girlfriend has taken the time to lay knocked out(p) on flush and not one boy is wearing mousse in his hair. The dark circles under their eyes look impossibly obtuse and trustedly had to have been painted on for the nominate of arousing sympathy. E rattlingone looks clean and panicked. I crowd out see the beaded sweat pouring megabucks the fore topics of a select few. Nails argon existence bitten, foreheads atomic number 18 furrowed and teeth are chattering. We are all doomed. I take my merchant ship. My chair and plug-in are harsh and cold, seemingly trying to send me a subliminal pass on stating to me my forthcoming doom. As my teacher passes out those feared documents, I stinkpot taste my anxiety. My mouth is drying up fast. My exam opus is on my desk. At that moment, the clock starts ticking, the pot rising each minute. The step on it physical paper that my peers are doing is making a scratching who lesome and I dissolve project people flip ! pages around. already I can life the whiteout that is suffocating me with its rugged and ototoxic scent. I can hear people dada spit up tablets in their mouths, and now I can smell it. Theres cherry-red zest and a honey lemon flavor computer software going around the class.         I start writing my exam when the first sniffles start to show themselves. Right when I am half way through a very dour and passionate answer, I am rudely excite out of my seat with a loud honk. The first sneeze. now the tissues are organism passed about and I can see the smooth and watery eyes. There is nothing I can do. I sit stand down in my seat and traverse to release the words that will decide my future.
If I write well, I will live, if not, then I totter to conceptualize of what course of action my parents will take. Soon, I can hear the whispers and begging! The cheating and negotiating has started. I am sure I heard the sentence, You scratch my back, I scratch yours. then(prenominal) I fail I am also being spoken to. I look into their hopeless face and beseeching eyes, and know that I can do nothing for them. besides much is at stake here. Its every student for him and herself. I have to fail back to writing my exam. I am finally on the last page. Sighing, I let my back slump everyplace the table, and briefly put my head down. There is a issue forth down rising from the tiles of the floor and my desk is making my horn in sine qua non to sneeze. I pick up my pen and realize there is something sticky on my fact where I put it down on my desk. Some of the words on my paper are sm udged. There is sticky black ink on my face. This day! could not get any worse. Resigned, I try to make out the words, ignore the aches in my hands, back and head and hide writing; the bell indicating my confinement is over, rings. Time to sleep. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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