"Exams? Again?" I groaned, slumping deeper into the couch. "What do these teachers even want from us? A weekly torture session?"
My phone sat beside me, mocking my misery with its silent screen. I let out a dramatic sigh, the kind that could probably be heard from the neighbor's house. "I swear, if this exam gets canceled, I'll throw a party for the whole class."
BEEP! BEEP!
My heart did a little flip. Notifications at this hour were never good news. I grabbed my phone, my fingers fumbling as I unlocked it. A message from the class group stared back at me, and my throat tightened like I'd just swallowed a lemon.
I tapped the message, bracing for impact.
"Dear Students, a warm good afternoon to all of you. This is to inform you that the weekly exam will begin next Monday. We hope you all do great! Regards, Exam Cell."
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. "Monday? Are you kidding me?" I whispered, my voice cracking like I was auditioning for a horror movie.
BEEP! BEEP!
Another message. My hands were sweating now, even with the AC blasting arctic air. I opened it, scanning the words like my life depended on it.
"Dear Students, here's the timetable for the weekly test: Mathematics, Chemistry, Physics, Biology, English, Computer Science."
My phone slipped from my grip, landing on the couch with a soft thud. Math? First? My least favorite subject, the one that haunted my dreams like a villain in a bad movie. I could already picture those equations laughing at me from the page.
"Aaaargh!" I yelled, tossing my phone onto a cushion like it was personally responsible for my suffering. "Why is it always the hardest subjects first? Math? Really? I'd rather wrestle a bear!"
I shot up from the couch, pacing the living room like a caged animal. "This is unfair. This is cruel," I muttered, throwing my hands in the air. "Hey, universe, why are you testing my limits like this?"
I glanced at the clock. Saturday. One measly day to prepare. My brain was already throwing up warning signs: Abort mission! You're doomed!
I rubbed my chin, muttering to myself. "Okay, think. How do I survive this Math exam?" A wild idea sparked in my head, like a cartoon lightbulb flickering to life. "What if… I cheat?"
I froze mid-step. Cheating? My brain screeched to a halt. "No, no, no. Bad idea. What if they stick me in the front row? First bench means game over. My grades are toast before I even pick up a pen!"
Defeated, I flopped back onto the couch, the cushions swallowing me with a soft whump. "What do I do now?" I groaned, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers.
My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it. The clock read 5:12 PM. Still early, but my motivation was already on life support. I glanced at the front door, tempted. "Maybe a walk will clear my head," I mumbled, yawning so wide my jaw cracked. "Or… maybe I just sleep it off. Yeah, sleep sounds better."
Dragging myself upstairs, I pushed open my bedroom door and made a beeline for my bed. The soft sheets welcomed me like an old friend. I grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly, and let out a pathetic chuckle. "Man, I wish this pillow was a girlfriend to cuddle with instead. At least she wouldn't make me do Math."
With a sleepy grin, I let my eyes flutter shut, drifting off into a world where exams didn't exist, and pillows were the best company.
...
My sore echoed through the room like a startled cow. I roll in bed side to side, tangled in my sheets, until—i fall.
"Ow!" I groaned, rubbing my throbbing head.
The room was pitch-black, save for a sliver of moonlight sneaking through the window. I squinted, my gaze landing on the night sky outside. A full moon hung there, glowing like a cosmic spotlight.
Yawning, I stretched my arms and hauled myself up. "Middle of the night, huh? Perfect time for my life to get weird."
Then I heard it—thud, thud, thud. Footsteps. My heart lurched. Panic clawed at my chest as my hand fumbled for the lamp switch. Click. Click. Nothing.
"Oh, come on," I hissed. "Don't tell me the power's out now, during peak horror-movie hours!"
I snatched my pillow, clutching it like a shield, and crept toward the door. My pulse hammered in my ears as I stepped into the upstairs hallway. The footsteps grew louder, echoing through the house like an ominous drumbeat.
"Who's there?" I called, my voice barely above a whisper.
No answer. Just more footsteps.
I tiptoed downstairs, gripping the banister to avoid tripping in the dark. "I'm serious—who's in my house?" My voice cracked, betraying my nerves. I live alone. Alone. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. "Please don't be a ghost. I'm not built for paranormal nonsense!"
Moonlight spilled through the living room window, casting eerie shadows. Then I saw it—a figure on my couch. My stomach dropped. I froze, my breath hitching.
"Hello?" I squeaked, inching closer. My hand trembled as I reached out, brushing against something… feathery? I frowned, my fingers exploring. "A cat? No, too big for a cat." My hand grazed something softer, like hair, and I yanked it back, stumbling to the floor with a yelp. My pillow flew across the room, landing with a pathetic flop.
"Hair? Hair?!" I whispered, my mind spiraling.
A rustle came from the couch, like the figure was moving. I scrambled to my feet, heart pounding. "Who—who are you?"
Click. The lights flickered on, blinding me for a split second. I rubbed my eyes, blinking furiously, and then I saw it.
An angel.
Right there on my couch, her massive wings spread wide, shimmering in the light like they were woven from starlight. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes—big, innocent, and glowing with a soft warmth—locked onto mine.
"Uh…" Her voice was like a melody, soft and sweet enough to melt my panic.
She shot up from the couch, bowing so fast her wings fluttered. "I-I'm so sorry!" she stammered. "I didn't mean to sneak into your house and… and sleep on your couch! Please don't be mad!"
I blinked, my jaw on the floor. Her voice was so soothing I could've listened to it for hours, like a lullaby in human form.
"Please, don't be upset," she said, lifting her head. Those wide, earnest eyes met mine, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.
I snapped out of my daze, shaking my head. "Hold up. An angel? Crashing on my couch? Begging for forgiveness?" I rubbed my eyes again, half-expecting her to vanish. "This has to be a dream. No way this is real."
She tilted her head, her wings twitching slightly. "I… I'm real," she said softly, a shy smile breaking through.
I stared, my brain struggling to catch up. "Okay, but… why my couch? And why me?"