Usually, in my idle moments, I love to lie in bed and rifle through my stacks of diaries. My diaries portray a tragic young woman…I couldn’t bother to jot down the fun filled moments, no, periods, of my life. So if there were 56 entries in it, the rest of the 300 days would have been spent in bliss. 
Ah, the ‘problems’ teenagers face!
However, my last year at my old school was marginally different to all the years spent there. It was a year that I will never forget because despite everything that I went through in the later years… nothing tops this. It was plain horrible.
****************************
[4 years ago]
I should have been in better spirit after knowing that our Physics period was free on account of the teacher being absent. That way, I could test myself by doing a few Past Papers. But as much as I tried to concentrate on the paper in front, I couldn’t help but hear the giggles of my ex-best friend and ex-close friend. Their giggles reminded me of the recently changed state of affairs, and that was excruciatingly distracting. I gave up trying to make my brain figure out Algebra; it was too busy trying to solve the mystery of the sudden turn in my relationship with my friends. Two weeks before I along with the rest of my family had returned home after we bid a tearful goodbye to YM; it was just two months after her wedding and it felt like hell leaving her there.
Returning back, I found it impossible to study for my Year End Grade 9 exam, which was starting the very next day. Always an A student [B once in a way], I found that I just couldn’t sit for the exams without a week’s preparation in hand. Getting low marks was the horror of horrors for; it just didn’t go down in my book. After a great amount of force from teachers and parents, I agreed and did the first paper. Naturally, I felt completely out of depth and felt just 2 feet tall after completing it. At home, as I studied, I looked through what I should study. I had Math the next day and it was impossible to go through several hundred pages of equations and sums before that. I couldn’t concentrate; my family and I were missing YM terribly and I just felt like I needed time to accept it. Cramming for the exams was just impossible. It was after Maghrib [7-8pm] and I had only managed to study a 10% of my syllabus. Not knowing what to do, I had a meltdown. I panicked, the first of the many to come in the coming months.
Despite the tears and despair, I sat for my Math exam on Friday. I got even more miserable; I found myself feeling completely helpless when answering most of the questions. I couldn’t relate to this new Alisha, who knew next to nothing and would come last in the class. I hated feeling stupid and unintelligent. Knowing that I had no time to study didn’t make a difference, I thought, A fail is a fail.I couldn’t take it anymore during the weekend; I had Chemistry and Bio on Monday and it was virtually impossible to study all the O level notes of chemistry then. I remember crying to myself, wondering whether I should breeze through all the notes or study a part of the notes properly, because with the little time I had, I could only do either one, so I make up my mind to study a section of the notes as thoroughly as I can. Then I think again, what if the chemistry paper is set on notes that I hadn’t gone through, I would get something like 10 out of 100!! It was unthinkable. I cry with my face buried in the pillow, This is my year end exams! If I get low marks, they will FAIL me!!!
That was my ultimate fear: The school will fail me. Demotion was a constant terror in my mind and I could find no escape out of it. I had spoken to the principal over the phone and when I asked her whether she’ll fail me, she said, ‘You do the papers, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.’ In retrospect, I realise that even if I had done badly they would have promoted me and she hadn’t said that to me because then I wouldn’t have really studied for my exams had I known I would pass anyway. But right then, this did not dawn on me. I thought that she meant if I got marks ranging around 50, she would allow me to pass. But I ‘knew’ my marks would be bordering on the 20’s and not preparing for my exams would not stand as an excuse since I should have started earlier according to the perfect student book.
So, that weekend, I felt like I was drowning. I called up my friends and all of them seem to be revising. There was no hope for me. If I did the exams, I would get poor marks. I would fail then since my principal would have expected better results than my 20’s. It kept on repeating itself throughout the weekend, and in the end I just gave up studying. I decided that I will not attend the rest of the exams. That way, I hoped, they would put together a different set of papers for me later, and I would be prepared by then.
No one could really understand what I was going through. They couldn’t understand why I couldn’t just do the freakin’ tests. They couldn’t understand my fear that I would do badly. You can’t do that badly, they said, you are a very good student. This made me even more determined to stick to my decision; I cannot let them down by faring poorly.
I felt like the biggest coward in the entire world. I had chickened out. To say I was feeling down would have been an understatement. I wished that I had never said yes when my parents wanted me to come to London to see my sister off, not wanting to disrupt their plans. I wished I had been a little selfish and decided to stay at home, not caring that that means my mother would have to stay behind too. But…I knew I would have never been able to do make such a callous decision. But I kept thinking in those days, where did I go wrong? Where? Should I have sat for my exams? But wouldn’t I have failed then? Round and round these thoughts went in my head, never finding a proper answer.
The week after the exams were over I spoke to my close friend[Let's call her Zayna].I can’t remember how we got into talking about friendship but I clearly remember that Zayna told me that she feels more closer to my best friend [Let's call her Maryam] than me. I felt quite hurt and shocked but let it pass although wondering what made her choose her over me whereas she used to regard us equally [or so she said] before. She explained that it has got nothing to do with me but she realised that she clicks with Maryam than with any other. She realised that during my absence. But I was stunned when she said Maryam feels the same.
I asked her, trying not to show the shock in my voice, ‘Does she feel the same?‘. My friend replied softly, oblivious to my feelings,’Yes, she does.’ I hung up, with enough dignity as I can muster. I called Maryam, explained what Zayna said and asked, trembling ‘ Is that feeling mutual?‘ And she said, sighing ‘How can you think that, Alisha?! Of course not.’ Relief flooded my veins. How could I have ever doubted my sincere and forever loyal Maryam? I spoke to her for an hour or so, letting out my grief about why Zayna has distanced me. She said it could be because of they got to spend more time together when I was in London. I went to bed, feeling misery, now doubled, washing over me.
The week after that, when talking to Maryam on the phone, I realised she was trying to hide the fact that she enjoyed being with Zayna while I was away. Amused, I said that it’s okay, that she likes to be with Zayna. 
However she misinterpreted it ‘Oh Alisha!! You know me too well! I DO feel more closer to Zayna than you…when you were in London, I was feeling so lonely and missed you a lot. She helped me and…we got closer. I didn’t want to upset you which is why I said no when you asked me the other day.’ I listen to her and comfort her,feeling dazed throughout the conversation. I couldn’t even get mad at her because she thought I knew all along and I was trying to coax it out of her. That night, I slept with tears in my eyes thinking…how quickly things change.
To be continued…
