I’m there at the back, with a pen in my hand, book on my table, and head in the clouds. Mr. Greg is standing few meters away from me, voice amplified by a public address system yet, all I hear is my mum’s voice. She was singing and jumping for joy. She looked at me with a wholesome smile drawn across her face, held my hands and pulled me in for a tight hug. I remember my dad entered the sitting room wondering what caused the joyful noise that interrupted his sleep. My mum handed him the envelope. He opened it, and I saw that look on his face – one I rarely see these days – my dad smiled and turned to me, “You have done well”.

“Muna, Muna, Muna!!!” Mr. Greg calls me back to the present.
“Muna, true or false: As the price of apples rises, the demand for apples falls, ceteris paribus.
“Sir, erm, erm… it depends on the size of the…”
“Meet me in my office after this class!” Mr. Greg interrupted me. Thank the heavens for that because I didn’t have a reasonable answer to the question and I’m sure he already knew.

This office isn’t new to me. I’ve been here several times – it’s normal for star students to always get invited to their favorite teacher’s office. But the occasion is different. It’s not the usual “…congratulations on smashing the test” or “… you’re eligible for Bridgeway’s scholarship opening … keep your grades steady and you’re good to go”. This time, I’m here for a reprimand – or that’s what I assumed. Mr. Greg walks in and sits in his chair. He looks straight into my eyes from across his desk and I look back. I don’t see anger, I see pity – again!!! I think to myself, “First, mom, and now Mr. Greg” Why do they pity me? Is that what I deserve? They have the right to be angry and scream all they want in my face but no, they choose to pity me instead. Maybe, I really need help.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine”
“No, you’re not” He stares at me, expecting a reply but I just stare into the air. It’s clear I’m not alright but what does he expect me to say? I can hardly explain what’s happening to me. 
“Muna, I know this isn’t you. I remember when you got the scholarship, your mom called me and thanked me for my contribution but I knew it was all you. You got down and put in the effort. What happened to your charisma? What happened to Muna magic?”

What does he want me to say? Does he expect me to break down in tears and ask for forgiveness? Does he expect me to promise I’ll change and tell him I’ll never do it again? It’s not that easy, it can’t be that easy. I’ve been silent since he last spoke and I’m sure he’s already accepting the fact that this meeting is going nowhere. 

“Well, it seems you’re not ready to talk. Your grades have dropped recently, a few C’s and you’ll fall below the requirements to maintain your scholarship” Now that hit hard. Losing my scholarship would destroy the tiny twig supporting me and my parents’ relationship. I really have to fix this.
“That will be all for today”
“Thank you, Sir” I pick up my backpack and head straight for the door.
“Don’t hurt yourself, don’t do anything drastic” I look back and nod.

I don’t know whether I’ll ever return to who I used to be before. Is this a phase, or is this who I have become?