Spiteful Revenge

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|October 6 2016-10:17pm|

I have just received the kiss of death.

The day started on with a pretty good note- a B for GP. But all good things come to an end and it just started going downhill from there. I failed my chemistry and got a D on ELL. What really augmented my sorrows was the fact that the people beside me were getting really good marks.

I am happy for them because I knew that they worked extremely hard and what I had, I only had myself to blame, thinking back to the heavy procrastination plus excessive, insatiable usage of the Internet. Deep down, it wasn’t really a surprise. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt as bad.

It was then that I really registered how bad my attitude was and how complacency was my Achilles’s heel. It became so crystal clear.

It hurt the most especially for ELL when I always thought that I was (I loathe myself to say this) potentially the best in the class. Reality gave me a good tight slap from my haughtiness and self proclamations. The comments written on my essays were that:

“Your writing comes across as a little shoddy and lacking meticulous attention.”

Shoddy? Shoddy? Basically, my writing was inferior and trash. That really made me fucking mad because I knew I had so much to offer but this time in my defense the passage was really weird. But, hell, it made me wanted to do fucking prove him wrong and live my life out of spite. I admit: I can’t take criticism very well like a good student is supposed to. If people criticize me, to tell you the truth, I’m cursing them to the depths for hell in my mind and imagining an array of ways in which I can get back at them. Its horrible and its me.

By writing this, it feels like all of my sorrows had just dissipated and instead moved on to its next phase in its evolution cycle.

Anger, spite and pettiness.

Resolution made: From now till the next round of tests, I am going to do everything in spite so that I can fucking prove them wrong. I will show you bitches what I can do. Fuck you all for making me feel so bad.

But I need to mention this how I was a little touched that some of my classmates were really considerate and nice about this. Lets call them C and E. So C really made a outstanding improvement from the last round of tests and I have seen her work extremely hard for this so even if she had higher marks than me, it would be too petty and inhumane to spite her. When I got back my marks, I was crumbling internally. I casually made a statement I had failed but C dealt the situation really nicely and considerately. Even though not many words were being exchanged, the vibe that she gave off being genuinely worried for me was comforting and soothing. One that is rarely felt when you are in a school filled with competitive fueled, self-centered and possibly pretentious group of teenagers. Similarly, E didn’t remark much but it was touching to see him try (?) to make me not feel as bad about myself by stating that E had an E before for literature. It wasn’t anything significant. But it achieved its purpose and I am really glad for them.

The hardest part of the day was telling my parents about my results. I really dread this part of every round of tests- revealing to my parents how I fared for the tests. Even though, they don’t dwell on it or verbally beat me up about it. The look of disappointment that flash across their features is enough to send my heart begging for any sort of redemption. I really hate that look because it makes me feel guilty and not worthy enough of a child to them. Although I know its nonsense, but that does not stop these kind of thoughts from streaking across my mind and as much as I try to stop myself from worrying too much about such feelings, sometimes I am too tired to try and would rather just succumb to it.

This reminds of one poem from Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur:

what is stronger

than the human heart

which shatters over and over 

but still lives 

This poem seems to resonate with me and something that I know will happen. So angel of death, from whom I have received the kiss of death, I have one thing to say to you:

My heart still lives.

and also fuck off.


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