The end of the semester looms like the blade of a guillotine, And I sit at my computer, typing madly to avoid it's impending descent. Words pour from my fingertips; I sit, not comprehending, and I ask, Don't I deserve some extra credit? For a girl who watched her father die mere weeks ago? Who took an exam through tear-weary eyes, only to get a D? Who has a month's worth of work to do in a matter of days? Doesn't life experience count for course credit? I could write you a paper, dear Dr. Davis, on Acute Myelogenous Lukemia. I could tell you about what happens when you combine that with a healthy dose of pneumonia and a fever of 104 and a cooling blanket that keeps springing leaks, unable to calm the fire that races through my fragile father's body. Do I get extra credit for being strong for my mother? For coming back to school at all? Isn't there some extra credit owed to me? The computer screen stares back, unfeeling, and the cursor blinks to remind me that the clock is still ticking... even if I am not.Birth sign: Aries
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