I couldn't help to think why some students want to suffer by coming to school so early. The education system is already a torture. Only one thing is going on in my mind: I still want to sink in a deep slumber!

With half-open eyes, I scan around the classroom. There are only few of us here because it is still recess, our vacant time. Some of us here are just waiting for the next subject teacher.

My eyes fly to Owen, the top student in our section. His eyeglasses are falling down from his nose every time he bows down and he always fixes it both through his forefinger and middle finger. By looking at him, I sense the hassle of wearing eyeglasses when you have a not-so-pointed nose. Good thing, mine is small and has an upturned tip.

He immediately pulled out a paper and wrote as if in a hurry. He even had a cup of fishball in one hand. With the intensity of his grip, the sauce was about to pass through the plastic cup.

I shift my body into a more relaxing position, with both arms crossed at my chest while wearing a lopsided grin. Right then, I find out that one of the perks of going to school so early is that you'll be having a time to 'sambotize' homeworks and projects. Still, for me, it's better to do those stuffs at home so I would have more time to sleep. Ah, I suddenly miss my bed.

My gaze shifted to the two women on the other side. One of them had his eyes fixed on the cellphone and the other had his face down on his desk so I couldn't see his face but I noticed his long hair lying on the wooden table. I looked back at the one sitting next to him. My forehead furrowed because I don't know him.

Am I always that late to the point that I didn't have time to know my other classmates? I only know geeks. Of course, they're my source of answers!

The sound of the ballpoint pen rubbing hard against the paper served as a lifeline to my drowsy trance. Looking at it so intently, an idea pops in on my drowsy state. I put my bag pack on my lap and swiftly fish for my pen. When I grasp it, I stare at my table. Unlike where I used to sit, it was new paint again and there was no trace of what I had written before.

I grin as an evil thought came to my gist. In a few seconds I will be able to baptize it again. Poor desk. Have I not been so stubborn, it wouldn't get a stain coming from my own fingers with the help of pure black tint.

'So much for being this early,' I wrote.

The day ends without having a remarkable memory. It actually feel like an endless series of repetitive routine. I will go to school in the morning, take care of my Mom in the afternoon, wash my clothes if possible, wait for the delivery man beside the road if I didn't cook, and then end up lying on the same lonely bed at night, staring at the plain ceiling and wondering how will these all end at once.

‘Glad you’re early but putting vandals is X! ’

Huh? What is this?

I read the words several times that are written just below where I wrote something yesterday and stare at it longer. My mind tries to process what does whoever-wrote-it want to convey.

I arrived late in class today, marching to my seat without being noticeable while the teacher was writing something on the board.

My mom was a bit scatterbrained last night. I couldn't guess what she wanted to do til she started jumping on the sofa. I almost struggled because I didn't know what to do when he started tweaking himself. Followed by her very loud crying.

In short, I stayed up late last night watching over my Mom who has BPD, a complicated mental illness which usually begins in early adulthood. She just turned thirty-five this year.

I looked back at the table. I chuckle. I can feel how my shoulders shake in amusement. Though, there's nothing funny to laugh at. It's just that, the person had forbidden me to vandal by doing the act itself. Hypocrite!

I already have a hunch that whoever it is, is from section A - the highest section in every junior high school level here in Collins High School. I am sure it's also not from section B. Students there may follow rules, but they condone irresponsible acts. Section C? Nevermind my section. I like my classmates. I'm comfortable here.

Unbeknownst to me, the questions I was thinking about had been translated into words. I laugh out loud when suddenly, I become aware of the quiet atmosphere. It then turns into an awkward ambiance. I suddenly feel stares. It's like all their attention are casted on me.

So I glance up. There, I notice the eyes of my classmates are staring at me like I did something ridiculous. There, I meet Miss Reyes's sharp glare under her spectacles.

Even her lips are folded on thin line. Some veins on the side of her forehead are popping. Her brows, snapped together. Her eyes, leering at me with annoyance. The forehead, crumpled.

"What are you laughing at, Miss Mandeville?"

My breath caught. I shake my head, still biting my lower lip, trying hard not to grin from the thoughts I still have on whoever replied to me in this seat. "Nothing, Ma'am."

She harshly hits her table with the one-meter long stick that she always brings with her. Almost all of us are taken aback. Gasps of horror envelops the whole class!

Miss Reyes folds her lips into a thin line. Her face, screaming strictness. There are thin lines on her forehead and on the corner of her eyes. Her hair is a bit grayish now. Her eyes narrow as she eyes me. I bent down, avoiding the frown on his face.

“You were late. I let it pass' cause maybe, you have a valid reason ... But then, you have the audacity to make a noise around while I'm teaching! ” she scolds.

But ... you were just writing on the board earlier. You were not teaching. I mean, she's not really teaching. She'd just make us write for hours, expect us to memorize even the conjunction of the terms and definitions she presented to us, and then we'd have no discussion to hear. There is nothing wrong with illicit learning but it always have been the scenario.

"Sorry, Ma'am." I bite my lip.

When you apologize just for the sake of apology for you are in denial to admit your fault, it only makes you feel guilty, but not sorry at all. That is what I am feeling right now. It does not feel right to utter the word 'sorry' if you were just obliged to say it. I feel like a bad person.

Miss Reyes turns back to the board. Yet the class remains soundless.

"Stand until my class is finished .. I would rather have you in my class than you wasting a time inside the detention room."