“Now,” the history teacher the blackboard with her ruler three times, “I want your reports on my desk, right now. Then, open your document to page fifteen and we will review the consequences of World War I.”

I reached out in my backpack, trying to find the thick stack of document I worked on for the past month. It wasn’t in my agenda, nor folded in my history booklet… I emptied my bag and checked every single pocket. It was gone…

“Damn! I forgot mine on my table… at my house…” I cursed under my breath.

“You’re in big trouble, then,” whispered Nana, who got hers out and handed it in properly.

I hesitantly raised my hand, trying to muster up a proper excuse in my head.

“Yes, Kahi, do you require some help?”

 “Um…yes, I… um… actually, I left the… the papers home…” my voice became weaker and weaker as the disappointment in her eyes grew larger and larger.

“Students,” she ignored me and addressed herself to the whole class, “you are now in college. You must know your responsibilities, and respect the deadline I impose. Now, I gave you one whole month to complete that document, and I specifically mentioned that no reports will be accepted past that date limit, didn’t I, Kahi?”

“Yes, miss,” I answered, shameful.

“Now, okay, you can bring it in tomorrow… but you’ll have to stay after school for detention today.”

I nodded, and opened my history booklet silently.

‘But I really did do the whole thing… stupid memory, stupid teacher…’ I groaned to myself.

What went on the rest of the day wasn’t really important. After history was science, a bunch of bacterial content I really wasn’t in the mood of learning, and gym, which totally just tired me out. After school ended, I told Nana to go home first, while I go rot in detention.

“Well, at least things couldn’t get any worse…” I muttered.

And for some unfathomable reason, God took that comment as a challenge.

Challenge accepted.