End-of-Year Poisoning

The mood in class has been rotten for weeks and today was the worst of it so far. Meggi, who used to light up a room—genuinely funny, actually charming—has been a different person since the Prague trip. Every small noise now gets a sharp "Psssst" out of her. The pressure is eating her alive and she’s dragging everyone down with it. André plays the righteous enforcer of whatever silence he decides is appropriate, shutting down anyone else’s energy while laughing his ass off the second something amuses him. The double standard never seems to land on him.

I know I don’t take school as seriously as I probably should. It never fit right. I’ve always resented the pre-drawn tracks, the institutional assumption that it gets to decide what matters. But even by my own loose standards this atmosphere is something else—everyone frayed and resentful, aggression just hanging in the air. Add actual bad weather on top of it and the whole thing becomes a sensory punishment. No fix for it. Not in the weeks that are left.