It had been the Calculus exam, and she hadn't read for it. She had gone to an older friend's party with Amelia the previous night prior to the exam day, Amelia who didn't have any exam the following day; and had partied away into the night. And when she had returned back home, drunken and exhausted, she had fallen into her bed mindlessly, without any care in the world, until the following morning.
She had woken up with a banging headache and the taste of nausea in her mouth. Actually, Amelia had done the waking up for her with a cup of water. Her sister had tried waking her up the normal way, the normal usual way of waking someone up from sleep with the slight tapping on hands or legs, but she hadn't woken up, being dead to the world and alive unto sleep. Well, not until she had felt a huge splash of water on her face.
She had shouted, sitting up angrily on the bed, about to vent her anger on the intruder of her beauty sleep, when she had felt the deep pangs of headache on her head, and the taste of nausea on her mouth. Swallowing down her words, so as not to throw up on herself and her bed, she had carefully but slowly gotten out of her bed, her two hands on her head as if to compress and stop the attacking headache with fangs, as she walked towards the bathroom, but not before casting an evil glance at her sister, threatening a payback.
And when she had been done tossing her cookies in the toilet bowl, she had washed her face and brushed her teeth, gotten out of the bathroom, taken the aspirin pills which her sister had left on her drawer with a glass of water, and had picked up her phone to surf the internet when her mother had stepped into her room with breakfast.
"You aren't dressed yet?" Her mother had asked, while keeping the tray of food on her reading table; startling her in the process.
"Dressed for what?" She had asked, picking up the toasted bread and putting it in her mouth, relishing the taste there of, while waiting on her mother's reply.
"Jesus!! Emma!! You told me last night that you were going to the reading club with your sister, in preparation of your calculus exam today. Has the exam been cancelled?" Her mother had asked, causing shock to run over her in tidal waves.
"And why are you looking and sounding so groggy? Didn't you sleep well? When had you come back?" Her mother had ushered out questions from her mouth, and had caused her own headache to escalate.
Fear coating her features, she had looked at her bedside clock, screaming for a second, then holding her head as the pains there retaliated back, as she saw what the time had been. The time had been 10am. She was late for an exam that had been scheduled at 9am; an exam she hadn't been prepared for at all.
Cursing all the elements in the earth for been at work against her, and at her sister for taking her to the party, even though she had been the one that had done the convincing, and at teacher for fixing the exam on a Friday morning, she had rushed into the bathroom, leaving her mother alone and befuddled in the room.
When she had come out from the bathroom, all wet and dripping since she had gone in to bath without her towel, her mother had left the room. She had picked up a polo and a ripped jeans from her wardrobe before towelling herself. And as she had dressed hurriedly, she had kept her calculus book in front of her, trying to grasp whatever her eyes had been able to land and feast on.
She had gotten to school, at half past 10, after convincing her mother to drop her off. And when she had run into the class, her mates were almost done. Her teacher had been shocked, telling her to come in still and giving her a seat in the back, but not before making her to promise that she would have to fill him in on the reason for the lateness. Of course, she had agreed quite happily, having known that there wasn't a way in hell that she would have told the teacher about the party, a cooked-up story had to do.
When she had received the exam script, she had gone blank, or rather her mind had been blank; not knowing the answers to the questions. Although, the headache had been subsiding, she had still felt groggy and tired, and she had cussed again, at whatever had pushed her to have gone for a night party when she had an untaken calculus exam the next day.
And as she had stared at the paper in anger and helplessness too, she had answered some of the questions which had looked familiar to her, not knowing who to ask; since most of her close pals in class had already been done and out of the close.
She had been drowning in the pool of her helplessness when she had remembered her Uncle's interesting stories about the chaplet. She had smiled, recovering from her helpless state, as she had remembered that she was with the chaplet. It had been hung around her neck. She had cautiously put her hand inside her polo and held the cross at the tail of the beaded jewellery, and had muttered gibberish that had made some meaning to her at that time, before she had picked up her pen to answer the rest of the questions.
When she had submitted her paper finally to the teacher, she had been beaming with smiles, her faith so anchored on the good-luck potency of the chaplet.
But when she had received her marked paper, few weeks later, with a bold red 'E' on it, she had cried and cursed loudly, remembering and cursing the chaplet too and her Uncle, before throwing it away on the school field. She had taken the course again, the next year; but this time around with no chaplet and with much reading, and she had passed, with an 'A'.
Nothing works without adequate preparation had been one of her watch words ever since then.
"With or without amulets and chaplets…" She muttered, dropping her hand from the painting.
She was about turning away from the painting, when it started glowing.
"Bloodugering hell!" She screamed, moving three steps backward.