Blood red ink blotched my admission slip, a signature beside the looming 5.0 mark, and if it isn't daunting enough, a big bold FAILED mark graced the paper. My blurry eyes darted to the paper that had marred me seconds after the big hit. Like after the dart hits the target, only this hit bull's eye. I bit the already busted lip to close the flood gates. I so wanted to cry, but never on the same building that's causing it. I skipped down the stairs without so much glancing at people. I don't want comfort hugs, that doesn't comfort you in anyway or so. They just tickle your tears down.

My feet was moving on their own, I was gasping the much needed air, inhaling all the air I could, as if it would save from the onslaught of war within me. Maybe I wasn't enough. The cram, the dark circles, the sleepless nights. Everything was all for naught.

I lost all the self-esteem I had built for years. I started questioning my capabilities. As if the world is reminding me how pathetic I'd become, I've seen others bagging medals, that was enough. That will make up for now, I was happy for them. It was not envy or jealousy, it was sheer what if. I haven't dwell on it for long, life is short. I had come to terms with what I have and that's alright. Or so I thought.