Echoes Down The Corridor

(Mock) Exams and (Sex)ting

A/N: Yeah...hello strangers...I'm very sorry about the wait - the only excuse I have is that, following the disaster that was last week's English Mock exam, I was waiting for the result so I could finish the chapter! Hopefully, it's length will make up for it...anyway, I'll shut up and get on with it now! Oh, and as normal, text between *** denotes texting ;)

I enter the exam hall, trepidation coursing through my veins. I hate exams, especially English, as there's so much thinking and writing for very few questions. To top it off, it's like the exam board actually want to bore us poor students to death, as they always set such mundane topics to write about; the November mock (theme of "Journeys") wasn't that bad, and I prayed I'd be lucky again this time round.

To no avail, I very quickly realised as I cautiously glanced at the paper in front of me. I caught sight of the Shorter Writing question: "Describe the best, and worst, meal you've had." Oh, Dear God, someone has it in for me! "Food" has to be, next to "Skateboarding" or "Youth Culture Today", the WORST topic I could be given. I can't write about food! My feelings of anticipation have, very suddenly, changed to those of absolute dread, and I will now be very glad to exit the exam hall.

Despite this, my overriding concern is failure. With my finals looming, it is imperative that I take this last opportunity to prove to my Girlfriend that I am capable of achieving an A*. At the end of the day, all I want is to see her face light up like a beacon on results day in August - it'd be the best entrance to 6th Form for both of us.

"It is 8:57. You may now begin." The booming voice of the Chief Invigilator* breaks my internal monologue, promptly reminding me that I am sat in an exam, and I hastily flip over the set texts, ready to face the music, or mock exam in this case. This is as bad as I imagined, I think as I scan the questions, racking my brain to remember exactly how I'm meant to answer the first one...

***1 hour 45 mins later ***

4 out of 6 questions complete, I feel fairly satisfied. This isn't going so bad, I thought, only the language analysis and the Longer Writing task to go. I hadn't really been keeping a check of the time, and I chose that moment to glance at my watch.

I slowly counted up the dots on my watch (mental maths had escaped me - come on, this is an English exam!). Again. And again. Then, I froze in horror: I have less than 30 minutes left to answer 1 hour 15 minutes worth of questions.

A small noise escapes my mouth, which earns me a death glare from 3 of the Invigilators patrolling the hall. Honestly, if looks could kill, I'd be 6 feet under!

Back to the crisis in hand, I am doomed for all eternity. "This is bad, very bad..." I panicked as I tried to revive the situation. My only option was to write, so I wrote down all the incoherent s*** that fell into my thoughts. A small gale was blowing across the hall at the speed my pen was moving; my desperation to get something, anything, down onto the exam paper. Heart pumping, hand racing, I could only dream that my efforts would be enough to rescue me from the sinking Titanic this exam had become...

***5 Days Later***

Walking into English the following Tuesday, my entire being is shaking with fear. "I've failed; I am such a failure" swims around my conscious, preventing any coherent thought from entering my head. I sit down with Beth and Georgie, unable to shake the anticipation ever building in my stomach.

A few moments later, my beautiful girlfriend enters the room gracefully, gently placing her rucksack on her desk. "I thought I put you in a seating plan last lesson. Move it!" she commands, authority evident in her voice. Uh-oh, we've not done well; back in November, she was all excited to hand back our results, and it looks like we haven't improved. This is going to be an interesting lesson.