The wind blows down the chimney of the gas fireplace;
My books are scattered around me – homework put off till now, novels I have no time to read.
The clock reads 11:30; I am exhausted – it was a hard riding lesson at the barn, the cold biting through my jodhpurs soon banished by my sweat.
All I want to do is sleep, with my iPod playing a lullaby;
All it would take is me closing my eyes, to fall asleep on the floor, downstairs in the den
As snow beats at the windows outside.
But I read on, scribbling with a dying pen, some fact or fallacy as the answer, one of many to give tonight.
Economy – a worksheet long past due;
German – a crossword and schedule translation;
Anatomy – the test is on Monday, finish the vocab;
Drama – the largest pile – a worksheet, a satire presentation, a character sketch and a play review;
Over 20 problems due in Algebra, conversions made in the dim light;
The first five-paragraph essay I've written in years, only now just learning.
I keep at it, eyelids heavy, until the clock reads midnight, 1, 2.
Still only half done. Thank God for study hall.
The books are closed, folders folded, papers stacked, all 30 pounds of it next to the two backpacks I use to carry them back and forth.
I set my alarm for 6 – no, 6:30 – no, 6 again. Perhaps I'll have time in the morning to finish some more work
While hurriedly eating grits, and drinking bittersweet coffee.
I lay down on the couch, a blanket pulled over myself, still in my riding clothes. It will be at least another hour before I can fall asleep, no matter how tired I am.
A/N: This is based off my experiences as a high school senior. And every word here is the truth.