Now that I think about it, the thing I fear the most would probably be time. This isn't a phobia, an irrational fear, but rather I fear the passage of time, moving without me realizing and sweeping me up from under my feet to a destination unknown, and quite frankly, terrifying.

As time goes on without me knowing, I often wouldn't notice that I've gone so far down the road. It is only when something reminds me, when something makes me look behind me, when my class president hands me a career survey to fill out, do I realize just how much time has passed.

No matter how much I think it's too soon and that there's no way three years could go by this fast, it doesn't change the fact that it has been that long. After the final exams in three months, I would no longer be in school. That is, unless I decide to continue my education. Even then, college is not the same as high school. It's nowhere near as laid-back. No matter what I choose, whether it be working or college, I'm not prepared.

It was as if the twelve years I spent in school did nothing to prepare me for what awaits. It felt as if I would die on the streets if I started working at the state that I am at now. It felt as if I would burn out from stress if I were to attend college at the state that I am at now. But at this point, at age seventeen, in my third year of high school, is there really anything I can do or change? Is it too late for me? Is time's current only going to lead me to a dead end?

The bell signalling the end of school for the day rang, snapping me back to my senses. Everyone got up from their seats, eager to hurry home or participate in extracurricular activities.

"Career, huh?" I murmured under my breath while placing my hand under my cheek.

"Get up. We're on cleaning duty today," the class president said while tapping her slender right index finger on my desk.

Following her command, I stood up and grabbed a broom with her from the back of the classroom. We swept every inch of the classroom diligently. At least, she did.

"About the career survey, what are you planning to do?" I asked while returning my broom to the back of the classroom.

"Hmm? Well, I'm going to go to college, get a white-collar job, and hopefully rise to the top of the office hierarchy."Though that may be a strange way to put it, I'm not surprised. That's the class president for you.

"What about you?" she asked as she erased the text on the blackboard.

"Me? I'm... not too sure actually..." my eyes wander down to my feet.

"This close to graduation and you're still not sure..." she sighed.

"I guess... ha... haha." I let out an awkward laugh while rubbing my head in embarrassment.

"This isn't really something you should be laughing about... Well, you better figure it out by next week."

"I'll try..."

"If you're so unsure, you could just write down 'college'," she said as she wrote down tomorrow's date on the now clean blackboard.

"I guess I could do that."

"But hey, it's your choice. As long as you don't cause trouble for the class by submitting a blank sheet of paper, it's not my business." She shrugged as we both left the classroom.

We walked together for a while, barely exchanging any words, before we went our separate ways once out of the school grounds.
The road home is the same one I've taken almost every day for these past three years. But back then, walking to and from school felt just like that, walking. A monotonous cycle, a completely normal, routine occurrence. I never thought anything of it up until now. If you told me to recall something that I saw yesterday on my way home and on this very road, I wouldn't be able to. Now... now that my days here are numbered, I can't help but notice every little detail about the scenery.

The one street light that emits a different colored light than the others, the cracks in the sidewalk that form a smiley face if you look hard enough, the hornet's nest precariously perched on a slim branch of an old tree, they all feel like something I ought to cherish...
To think that I have exactly a hundred and eleven days before this scenery is no longer something I pass by every day... to think that I have no idea what awaits me after those hundred and eleven days are up...
On this road home, somehow... my legs feel really heavy.