February 1st

A lot of things can happen in one day. You could fall off the stairs. You could pick your nose in the restroom cubicle (which usually takes a bit of time but not enough time to consume your 24 hours). You could dance like a trying hard turkey that wants to be a hip hopper for once in his life. You could eat eight orders of extra-large fries at your local food chain and the day still won’t be over. Though twenty-four hours is long for most people who are sitting in class while playing with that sticky, gooey, eewy substance under their table, it isn’t for me.

I have about three hours, twenty-three minutes, nine seconds and about 13 milliseconds to finish my homework which is, by the way, given to me by my anonymous teacher (anonymous because sometimes, you just happen to forget your teacher’s name…or most of the times) in Wildlife Literature class. I remember she gave this homework ages ago. Like, a couples of weeks ago? Who knows. Besides, I procrastinate. So does everybody else. Duh. And I need to write at least 5000 characters for this essay and guess what I’ve written:

If I could write the word “crazy” once or twice or maybe a couple of hundred times, and just let Justin Bieber sing his song in the middle of Sahara Desert, would I get an A+? Of course not. OOOH! My hands are typing something completely out of the topic. Interestingggg!

Oh goodness. What in the world am I even typing? If it were acceptable to just type the letter A 5000 times, I would have done so.

I look around the place scanning for existing earthlings and found none. I know it’s illegal to eat or drink in a library because those stacked things on shelves might grow teeth and gobble up your food as what I was told by my grandfather and basically you’d starve to death then, then you’ll die. My grampa’s crazy, I know. So am I.

But I’m thirsty.

I grab my backpack as I head towards the bookshelves to hide from the CCTV of the library. I started piling books on the floor to surround me. It’s a sort of a ritual thing. I always do this whenever I need to eat or drink in the library. It feels like I have this fort that protects me from being seen. How crazier could I get?

I settled on the floor with my laptop in front of me after piling all those books and gave a hungry stare at my cup of frappe.

“Aren’t you a beauty?” I say whilst drooling inwardly.

I took off my glasses and started drinking. Darn. Why do you have to be so deliciouuusss? I took my time drinking my frappe while thinking of how I could finish the work I was assigned which made me check my pocket watch to see how much time I have left. Three hours, twelve minutes fifteen seconds and 6 milliseconds.

Wow. That’s a lot of time. I still have twelve minutes to spare before I start my work. Let’s be organized here and start at exactly two hours being the remaining time.

I reach over the pile of books and took one while holding my frappe, careful enough not to break the fort I built for myself. It read, How to Read Time With Your Eyes. Well that’s funny. Of course everyone reads time with their eyes open. How obvious could that be? I presume this to be a book for kids donated by people to the library. The school often hold donation campaigns to have a bigger palace for books every year. No wonder book for little kids can be found anywhere. Probably a misplaced one. That usually happens.

A couple of steps faint enough to be overlooked by people who aren’t me drew closer and closer towards the area that I was in. Two people, I believe.

I peeked over the pile to see who owns the silent footsteps just to find out it was the usual couple who always make out in the library. Ugh. Why do people make out in the library? This isn’t a bar, people.

I felt a slight poke on my head. Oh I know this. Those silly finches are at it again. I may have forgotten to mention that this library houses a bunch of finches that there’s even a nest for them on the ceiling! How did that happen? Well, basically, the library was built on a location with a tree as its centerpiece. Pretty cool, huh? Then these birds built their nests on the tree and started owning the whole place. And to top off this gorgeous place, they drop their bombs on people’s head. One incident on that is right this moment.

GROSS!

But wait, there’s more. The poop on my head moved and rumpled my hair. Now this is creepy.

“Hey, princess.”

Crap.

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