Description:
A suffocating classroom. A desperate teenager struggles to finish his test amidst blurred vision and overheating.

A drop of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I felt the blood flowing to my eyes and a burning sensation in the palm of my hands. With every heartbeat, the sensation grew stronger. Every cell in my body was screaming for oxygen. Is this what it feels like to drown, to be suffocated? Everything was blurry. For a moment, I didn’t know who or where I was. Then, everything cleared up. My name is Alexander Charon. I am fifteen years old. I began to slowly wake up, to slowly sit up. I couldn’t keep my eyes from blinking wildly, uncontrollably. Focus. The bead of sweat had completed its journey across my face and fell onto the paper below me, smudging the black ink. “Time’s up!” the teacher yelled. “Pens down.” I gripped my pen and began to

Description:
A student in a classroom takes a deep breath, surrounded by the snowy landscape outside.

write, not sure what I wrote, not even sure it was English, but I had to finish! As the teacher’s figure stood above me, I dropped my pen, shut my eyes, and began to say a prayer. “It’s just a mock exam,” the teacher said. “Calm down.” My eyes opened slowly, unwillingly, to a future bereft of color, substance, and form. I blinked, and my eyelashes faintly batted against my lids. With a long exhale, waves of anxiety and relief flooded over me. What time is it? How long have I been in there? Wait…was I in the right exam? My revived corpse began to stand up from my desk as the distant chatters of acquaintances echoed around me. I looked out the window to see approaching snow clouds. Sparkling snowflakes danced around in the piercing cold air, to eventually

Description:
'A snow-covered landscape with frosted bushes and snow-wrapped trees. Two friends chat, one with curly black hair.'

settle on the white dune of snow forming layer after layer. The snow floated gently down, landing on hilltops as if they were a white blanket, keeping the hills covered. Bushes were delicately frosted, and trees were wrapped in snow hats. “Winter is here,” Anthony whispered into my ear, in his best Ned Stark impression. I turned around, laughing, to see Anthony Halifax’s light, chestnut-brown complexion. Anthony had been a close friend of mine since we were nine years old. We had previously attended different schools until this year. This year, I attained a scholarship to his school, Atlantic Ridge Academy. “How did you find the test?” Anthony asked as he ran his fingers through his scruffy, curly black hair. “Tough,” I said with a smile. “You’re the only person I know that would say that with a smile on

Description:
A military academy at sunrise. A determined student and his friend stand before the academy gates.

his face,” he replied. “Well, smiling makes me feel better about just failing,” I laughed. “We both know you didn’t fail,” he said. “You’re just worried about your scholarship.” He was right. The details of my scholarship required me to be a “pivotal asset to the academy.” That meant I had to attain top grades as well as be a part of a first team within my first year here, or I’d be kicked out. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Anthony said. “I’d be more worried about your race today.” “Race?” I asked. “Yeah,” he answered. “You signed up for the Marine School Corps and volleyball as your two activities, right?” “Yeah,” I replied, confused. “The Marine School Corps trial is today, and the volleyball trial is in a week,” he responded. “Wait, there are trials?” I asked, surprised.