May 17th, Year 2021.

It was supposed to be a normal day. I would go to school to take my final. I would laugh and talk with my friends. I would come back home to my parents asking me how my day was.

That's not how it went. Because it was a special day.

The day the world changed.

It was Sunday. And I was doomed. No, not the life-threatening type of doom. The doom of when reality hits one in the face, predicting horrid grades because one has not studied.

I stared at my study guide, hoping it would magically make sense. Sadly, it did not. I sighed and got up. Might as well have some food before I jump into the depths of hell, also known as Khan Academy, to find out how to do math.

Yes, I know what you’re probably thinking. I’m at the end of my school year, my 8th grade school year, and I can’t do math. I was exaggerating. I’m quite the dramatic person.

I entered the pantry and grabbed a bag of potato chips and then grabbed another. At least I won't run out this way. I put one bag under my arm and opened the other. I grabbed a chip and threw it in my mouth.

“This is exactly what I needed. Crunchy, salty junk food.” I munched on my chips as I looked at the time. There were three more hours until I needed to go to bed. I could do this. I went back to my desk and started working.

Two hours later, I finished. As I stretched and yawned, I looked at the time and realized it was ten at night. It was about time.

As expected, a few minutes later my dad entered my room and said, “Go to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’ll go in a few,” I replied.

“You better. I’ll come back to check.”

“Yup,” I waved him out of the room. At my desk, I pulled out my diary. Ever since I was young, I’ve kept records of my life in the diary. I’ve only missed a day a few times, when I was sick or when I forgot to take it with me on vacation.

The contents inside my diary were quite normal. Except for the few outliers, most of the content was boring.

With my koala pen in hand, I wrote in my diary about the uneventful Sunday.

The thumping noises that steadily grew louder, caused me to quickly shut my diary and jump into my bed rolling myself into the blanket. 

The thumping noise stopped in front of my door before the sound of a door creaking echoed through the room. I curled up and stayed as still as possible, hoping my dad wouldn’t notice I was awake. He stood at the door for a few moments before saying, “You forgot to turn off the lights,” and left the room.

My eyes opened as my hands reached out to turn off the lights. I wrapped the blanket around myself, and fell asleep.