white piece paper with a huge, red F hangs on the fridge door like it’s mocking me as I open the fridge door every day. Ironically, maybe if I drew straight line to make the F look like an A I could convince myself I was the winner; I got the A. However, I didn’t that F was a daily reminder of my flaw.
During second week of junior year, I was in math class, and my teacher was handing out the class’s first graded test. I was a nervous wreck with sweaty palms, non-stopping foot tapping, and continuously nail biting. I knew the second the paper fell in my hands, a nightmare was about to begin. I told myself a C is not that bad. However, an unexpected letter was on my test. There an F was stamped on my test. I thought it was a dream; so I pinched myself. I checked and checked for any mistakes that the teacher made. Sadly, she made none. I told myself that everything is going to be fine even if I knew it wasn’t. I tried to hold off the tears till school ended. As soon as I went home, I went to my room, slammed the door, and cried till my eyes were puffy and red. I was devastated and scared for the rest of the year. My whole week was ruined. My mom kept telling it was okay and even bought me ice-cream to cheer me up, but nothing worked. My world has been broken to pieces. I thought my life was over. After the depression stage, I moved towards hatred towards my teacher. However, I knew that I should be the one to blame. I decided the best way to forget this nightmare was to sleep. The next day I went to school, trying to be optimistic about this experience. In math class, my teacher announced that students could retake the test. That moment I could see angels and hear choir singing “hallelujah”. I saw the beautiful light from the darkness that surrounded me. Immediately, I came up with a plan to get an A on the retake. I stayed every day after school consulting with my teacher, studied at least an hour every day, and before test day I studied till I fell asleep. I woke…