Weihan Yue

Second Place: Nonfiction

“And So I Was” 
by Weihan Yue
12th grade, Princeton High School

—

And so I was, staring at those circles again. The light had bleached all color from the room. We were all sitting, lined up in neat rows and spaced about five feet from each other. There was a constant rumbling hum, perhaps from the air conditioning, that had pervaded the world. Our mouths took on a sour dryness and the air was stale and still. I had a faint and suppressed urge to urinate.

The whole test setting was as mundane as possible. It was the same as all the other times: the state student assessments, the SAT, the AP exams, the various chapter and final tests from a multitude of classes for the past twelve or so years. Yet our hearts beat and danced in their cages faster than ever before.

I looked at the paper. There the circles were, lined up in rows. The instructions were at the top, telling us to fill in the circles correctly. To fill in the circles, not to scratch them, not to half-mark them, not to fill all of them in and erase them ambiguously. To fill them in correctly. Correctly, not wrongly. Whether or not we filled in the circles correctly and whether or not we filled in the correct circles was to decide our future. Those circles decided between correct answers and dumb mistakes. They decided who would be celebrating in a few weeks and who would have their hearts sunken and dreams shot down. Our fates were in their circlely hands.

The clock was ticking. Time incarnate in its circular form leaned against the wall. It was mocking us. Some of us began to creep closer to madness, clutching and clawing at their own hair. Tick. Feet started to stamp the floor, desks began to shudder. Tick. Our breaths became more frequent and fearful. Tick. The whole place was as frantic as possible. Circles were filled left and right. They were guessing now, some trying the circles they thought were promising, while others simply went for an entire line of Cs.

It was the end. Time had gone somewhere else. Time was up.

Sighs filled the room. The light faltered a bit and color seeped back into some faces. Others stayed pale and emotionless. I did not know how I had done. The proctor reminded us of their existence. Backpacks were snatched away from the floor and the students began to trickle out of the room, back into their own lives. Lives that were dictated in part by the circles in that room.

The students flowed outside into cars and their parents’ arms and apprehensions. I waited. I waited for my mom to drive up in her silver Honda. I waited for my scores to come out. I waited for the day when all the circles that I had filled would finally mean something. I waited for a long while.

The next day, I had a math test. And so I was, staring at those circles again.