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Wednesday, May 24, 2006 @ 12:46 pm
Judgement Day - PTD. Yikes. Judgement day. Nervously smoothing down my blue uniform, with my Dad following behind, we make our way to the courtroom. Greeted by artificial green boards and a sea of grey plastic chairs, a prefect guides us to our place. The judges are already there. Fully decked in black, and with sombre looks on their faces, they look as if they are going to sentence me, the criminal, to death. We sit down on those cold, hard things and pretend to be casual. "As you can see, your daughter..." The trial begins. Exposing a horrendous report card, evidence of "not enough work done", the judges sit back, waiting for our reactions. My father recovers from his shock more quickly than I do. "What's that? Three band 10's! You're in the bottom 10% for three subjects?!" I fidget, feeling extremely guilty. The report book glares up at me, it's mocking me,"Ha! Who asked you to spend all your time on other things? Who asked you not to work harder?" I can't bear to look at it any further. In front of me, besides the judges, is another student. She sits between her parents, looking bored and unentertained. She fidgets with her bag, opening, closing, opening, closing... "Kim, you have to prioritize." One of the judges interrupts my thoughts, bringing me back to the trial. The report card glares back at me as I look at it once again. Conduct, excellent. Attendence, excellent. English, Higher Chinese, Additional Mathematics, Mathematics, Literature (E), Combined Humanities, Biology, Chemistry. My highest banding is just a 4. An average. Three band 10's, one band 9, surrounded by 7's and 6's. Tears start rolling down my face. The judges hand me a box of tissue, which was probably there for good measure in case someone like me started to cry. They look at me sympathetically, while my father goes on and on about my future, my grades, my pathetic standing in the cohort. Pinpointing every single mistake I have made - spending too much time on other "compulsory" activities, coming home at 7 (?!?!?! That was such an exaggeration), making pizza... Once again, the dreaded sentence comes. Over and over and over, "You have got to prioritize, you must manage your time properly, you must work harder!" A wave of guilt washes over me as I ponder over that advice. For once in my life, the evidence, the sentence, it just clicks. I need to work harder. Yucks, I know, but for once during my whole Secondary School life, I want to actually see something of substance on my report card. I really, truly, do. Honestly, Parent-teacher dialogues make you feel so disgusted with yourself. I know I am. |