Personal Narrative: My Calculus Worksheet

When the pendulum clock arm swung lifelessly as it hit nine o'clock, I buried my head down in piles of worksheets and assignments. Like any other day, I was preparing for three tests on one day. Under the bright light, I closed my books and started my usually nine o' clock yawn. High school had never felt this stressful until I finally reached grade eleven when assignments became longer and harder and tests became more frequent than my workout routine. Over several months, I was confident that I had adapted to the non-stopping thinking model of my life until a week before term one ended. " Mom! Did you see my calculus worksheet?" I yelled while flipping through all my folders on the floor. " Did you clean my room again?" ,ignoring that my anxiety had secretly crept through my nerves and terminated my
Did you see my calculus worksheet?" I asked again with two piles of paper in my hands. "No, I didn't see your worksheet. Pay attention to your attitude." She reminded me again, but this time with her hand moving to my direction. " Okay, okay, bye." I said impatiently while my hands trying to close the door and locked my mother outside. I signed so loud that my mother must felt so offended that she pushed the door open. "what's your attitude." my mother asked, "I'm here to help you" "Mom, I'm studying. Can you please leave me alone?" Then I closed the door and started to shake everything out of my backpack and throw every piece of paper I could find in the room. I treated all my school supplies as an outlet for my anger by throwing them in the wall and stared at them when they hit or cracked the wall. After twenty minutes of storm, my room was the no man's land for pens and pencils. backpack and paper were just collateral damage, and my crayons were prisoners. Suddenly, I sat on my bed and looked through my half-closed eyes, and finally inhaled. The thought that destroying my old "friends" had been relaxing scared