Destiny | KTH

Chapter 3

I stared at the notes scattered across my desk, the carefully written words and diagrams blurring together as tears stung my eyes. I had worked so hard, staying up night after night, filling page after page in a desperate attempt to keep up with the endless assignments and tests. Multicolored sticky notes covered the walls, fluttering slightly in the breeze from the open window, a kaleidoscope of reminders and factoids meant to help cement the knowledge in my brain.

But it never felt like enough. No matter how diligently I studied, a cloud of impending failure always loomed over me. My grades teetered on the edge, occasionally dipping into territory that prompted stern talks from teachers and disapproving looks from my parents.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I blinked back the wetness in my eyes. I couldn't break down, not again. But the pressure felt suffocating at times, the expectations weighing down on me like an anvil on my chest.

The door burst open and my mom swept into the room, eyes narrowed as she scanned my surroundings. I tensed, already able to sense the lecture brewing behind her pursed lips.

"Absolutely not," she said, voice clipped as she strode over to my bookshelf and began pulling volumes from their resting places. "These silly romance books are what's distracting you."

I watched in dismay as she gathered the stack of unread novels I had purchased months ago in a rare moment of rebellion against the constant grind of school. Beautiful covers depicting gorgeous models locked in passionate embraces, the raised lettering of the titles promising epic love stories and heart-wrenching drama.

Novels I hadn't even cracked open yet due to the overwhelming load of schoolwork.

"M-mom, wait," I pleaded, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper. "I haven't read those. They're not why my grades—"

She whirled on me, eyes flashing with a terrifying blend of anger and concern only a parent could muster. "Don't lie to me. I know how easily you get distracted."

My mouth worked uselessly as she turned and stormed from the room, novels clutched against her chest like contraband. Arguing was futile when she got like this; it would only make my head pound harder than it already did from overthinking and stressing myself into a constant state of anxiety.

I buried my face in my hands, shoulders slumping in defeat, as a fresh wave of dread washed over me. How could I make her understand? How could I make any of them understand the crushing weight I felt, day in and day out, just trying to stay afloat?

The sticky notes mocked me with their bright hues, reminders of all the information I needed to cram into my brain. My throat felt tight as I wondered if, maybe this time, it would finally be too much.

Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin, a constant reminder of the relentless pursuit that had been my life. My room, usually a haven of books and scattered papers, felt like a battlefield. Empty coffee cups littered the desk, their bitter dregs mirroring the taste in my mouth. The harsh glow of the monitor displayed the acceptance letter for Busan National University – a victory snatched from the jaws of defeat, thanks to Mrs. Shin's poisonous visit.

What a victory, I thought, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. Every hour, every night, sacrificed on the altar of ambition. Years spent hunched over textbooks, fueled by a relentless pursuit of good grades and a desperate longing for approval. My friends, once a noisy, vibrant circle, had slowly dwindled. Social gatherings, family events – all casualties in the war for academic excellence. Love? That was a luxury I couldn't afford, a fragile thing easily shattered by the relentless pressure to perform.