Satisfaction

 A story that ends with the word 'satisfaction'.

Satisfaction

The five o’clock mornings were the worst. One would expect their day to begin with a calming view of the sunrise, followed by the sweet chirping of birds resuming their daily dose of gossip. 

But, no. 

That was hardly the case for me. 

I was always jerked awake by the infernal blaring of my ‘QC Pass- Perfect Sunrise’ alarm clock. And then, I would have to haul myself to the bathroom and use the most pungent toothpaste in my possession to keep my eyelids apart. Agony. But alas, I was drowning in the relentless ocean that was my exam portions. When you’re under the crushing boulder of ‘World-Topper’ expectations, you have to work, work, work.  

And so I did. I woke up early, slept late, cut out any form of self-indulgence. I had single-handedly made three months of my life a living hell. The lowest point was the day that I forgot to wake up. Oh, the horror! 

My eyes fluttered open at around nine. I squirmed out of bed and clawed my way to the desk. My hand instinctively reached out to the Holy Alarm Clock. And when I turned it over, guess what it said. Bold and bright it read ‘4:59 a.m.’. I blinked at it in bewilderment. 

Phew, I thought. I almost messed up. 

But then it all came crashing down. 

“Hey, sleepyhead!” a voice was hurled onto me. 

I spun around and saw my brother. His face was a stretched grin and the words that were about to come out- particularly venomous. 

“It’s nine. That stupid alarm of yours is dead.”

Nothing. I felt nothing for just a moment. And then, the entire room collapsed into one gigantic vortex. Madness.

But after a long talk- involving some cathartic crying- with my parents, I felt light. I hadn’t felt such relief in a while. I was thankful. Hopeful, even. I still marched on with my now-less-rigorous study regime until I had everything done. Studied. Revised. Reviewed. By the end of it all, I’m certain I looked like a younger, but just as maddened version of Einstein. 

Then came the Big Day. After two hours of concentrated torture in the rather claustrophobic examination hall, I emerged a new person. Now that the deed was done, I felt free. I felt wings on my arms. I felt the boulder being lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t even care about the results. All I felt was the smile on my face, the sigh in my chest. Satisfaction.