Writing with Detail

 

                Weightless. That’s the first thing I feel when I hear the voice over the intercom state that “the grade 11 provincial exam will now begin boarding students into the gym.” I feel nothing at first, hear nothing. I only see the doors rushing open before me and the crowd squeezing in to find their seats first. I hesitate to move forward until someone pulls me towards the big, open, metal doors, and I automatically find my assigned seat. I can see the principal standing at the podium at the front of the gym, arranging some papers and then clearing the phlegm from his throat. I shut everyone, everything, out, focusing on my breathing and setting myself up for failure. I think the fact that I’m not sitting next to my friends scares me most because I won’t get their reassuring glances. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m completely un-prepared for this exam. My senses kick in once the principal has finished telling of the same rules that everyone knows, so I flip the booklet that lay before me, open. The page is cold, brittle, untouched, and holds questions with answers unknown to myself.  I feel a single drop of sweat beading down my face; feel my heartbeat thumping way past a desirable pace, so I just breathe. My hands start to perspire and my heart is out of place; this is what nervousness is like, and it is all too familiar. I know, and can already tell that these next few hours, will feel more like the next few decades, and that time will slow down to an almost-stop, as will my breathing, with it.  But in the meantime I pick up a pencil and not some cheap wooden kind, but the sort that is mechanized. It’s cold, bare and foreign to my skin, which snaps me out of this haze of indulgence. I hear pages turning and it occurs to me that only a few moments have passed, but some students are well on their way through the exam, and I have yet to start. I procrastinated studying, and now I’m faced with delaying this, gut wrenching, 40 page version of a test. I fear the worst, and hope for the best as I embark on this mission to complete my exam.