Well, I'm screwed.

That sudden realisation hit me the moment the stark whiteness of the test paper was met by my blank, unblinking stares. Glancing around the room full of people hunching over their tables, furiously scribbling delicately memorised verses, I slouched further down into my chair, sinking even lower to the limits of my shame and embarrassment as I vividly picture the merciless tongue-lashing I'll received later. All this trouble could have been easily avoided if only my will...

  The detail that struck me most about that particular night was the storm. A storm, brewing in the depths of the night sky, according to my superstitious mother in her fearful, whispery voice, hinted the beginnings of dark, evil tidings, the fate of everything lying in the hands of merciless gods. Especially if it was a thick, rumbling raging storm, untameable in its anger, growling from the pits of its stomach, hungry, hell bent on revenge with an incomparably,...