‘Qualifying Exam’


5 letters, 1 syllable, just a word.

“We can do this guys, we can. Believe okay? Inhale. Exhale.” I said to them while we’re dragging our feet to that magical portal that will lead us to our (as of now) unreachable dreams.

And as our feet landed on the floor just inches closer to the board, I immediately closed my eyes. I don’t want to see it. No, no, no. Please failure, stop roaming around me.

Still with my eyes closed, I’m standing there for 5 minutes looking stupid as if waiting for a miracle when there’s none. I was about to open my eyes and face my reality when I’ve heard my friends, they’re screaming with hint of enthusiasm and happiness in their tones. Well, those were just minimizations, it’s like they’ve got some elixir of euphoria out there.

I don’t know.

I just don’t know why my eyes can’t find their way to that piece of paper that will dictate my future.

Maybe, I just don’t want to disappoint myself anymore. I don’t want to push myself on that pit black hole—again.

“Open your eyes Maria. You made it too.” The voice came from behind me.

Slowly, I open my eyes and let my gazes fall to that list.




I don’t know what to do. I said before that I’ll jump, roll, dance and scream as loud as I could once I find my name—our names—written on the list of those who are qualified to be  3rd year BSA students but on the contrary, I’m just standing in front of bulletin board, with wide eyes, shaky hands and my heart’s racing in insane way thinking what did I do to deserve this–THIS!!


I just can’t believe it. I’m speechless. I want to shout, I want to cry like those people around me. All of our hard works are labeled as paid off. All the sleepless nights, eyebags, frustrations and long list of complicated and mind twisting reviewers. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this. I’m thankful to my family and friends who are the best cheerers ever existed in the whole wide galaxy.

Thank you Lord God. Thank you to the sun and front.

I still can’t feel my usual breathing and with sweating palms, I grabbed my phone to call my Mom.

With just 3 rings, she picked up.


“Hello Ma.”

“So how was it? What’s the result baby?”

I inhale all the excitements before letting the words come out;

“Ma, I made—–”


I heard the annoying sound coming from this nosy alarm clock. I just let my hand search for it.

I woke up and found myself still leaning on my study desk with a pencil on my hand, my baby calcu and an open Financial Accounting book, still at Chapter 1.

Staring at mere nothingness, all I could do is sing Nelly’s song entitled; Just A Dream. Haaaay.


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