Unprepared

As I enter the room, I am caught in the hustle of my many peers hurriedly trying to find their assigned desks. After I make my way through the swarm, I find my desk and sit down. I hear a man's nasally voice through the microphone, going over the rules we've all heard so many times before. Finally, he shouts "Begin!" and the clock begins to count down. As I look down at my paper, fear courses through me as I feel my heart begin to speed up. I am filled with regret as I think of all the time I'd wasted doing nothing, when I could have been studying. In my mouth remains the bitter after taste of coffee, which I'd had earlier, with the hope that it would help me to think. If anything, it's made my situation worse. Someone is clicking their pen, another tapping their foot on the wooden floor. I feel as if it’s slowly driving me insane.  My hands are shaking as I nervously play with my hair, though the feeling of my soft hair twining around my fingers offers some comfort. I smell my own sweat, it slowly making me more and more uncomfortable as the warm liquid pools underneath my sweater.  I desperately try to think, but I feel as though my mind has gone blank, that any small piece of information I might have known has left me completely. As I reach for my pencil, I know that these next few hours are going to be the longest I'll ever endure in my life.