Fiona

Fiona rolled over in her bed. The numbers on her digital clock were blurry. It was 8:36 a.m.—Her alarm hadn’t rung. She was late for her first day at Uni!

No time to lose! She jumped out of her comfy bed and straight into the cold. She bumped into her door, still too sleepy to remember to open it. Pain shot through her forehead, but at least she was awake now. She passed in front of the main room mirror. She looked like a Disney princess; the only issue was that it was Merida during her wake-up scene. Her hair was pure chaos.

She grabbed yesterday’s leftover cup of coffee and her brush. She was fighting to move it through her mane but that was nothing compared to the disgustingly cold coffee.

Luckily, she had prepared her clothes beforehand. On a chair was laying a simple skirt and a blue top. Colourful but still serious. Her clumsy hands knocked over the rest of the coffee. The black liquid spread across the table, heading straight for her clothes. Fiona soared and pushed the chair. The liquid stopped on the edge of the table. She had saved her day.

Her phone rang. Her alarm had finally decided to work. 8:45 a.m. She was still late!

She turned off her alarm, got dressed, grabbed her bag, and locked the door, her empty stomach protesting.

She ran. She ran down her stairs. She ran into the hallway. She ran down the street. Despite her efforts, on the corner, the bus left the stop without Fiona. No time, no choice. The Uni was three blocks away; she had to run.

She weaved between people in the crowd. She wasn’t the only one running; a guy in a black suit was sprinting in the opposite direction. They exchanged a sympathetic glance. She dodged a child with a bag twice his size and nearly hit his mum.

“Careful young lady!” the woman protested.

But Fiona was already far away. She was 28; it had been a long time since anyone had called her “young lady”. Last time was years ago. And Fiona slowed down. She had passed her age to go to Uni! She was not a student anymore! She nervously laughed. Some workers glanced at this euphoric lady but didn’t dare say anything. Stress can make you do stupid things, Fiona realised. Funny to think Uni still had a grasp on her after all this time.

She even had her things ready—bag and clothes.

Then it hit her again. She wasn’t a student; she was a teacher now!

She briskly started running again. She was not far. She could make it.

She passed the main gate, dodged the latecomers and rushed to her designated classroom. The Uni alarm rang. She had made it!

Out of breath but smiling, she opened her door. And she discovered an empty room. A woman by the desk was adjusting something on it. She looked at the room number. It was hers, no doubt about it.

“Where are all the students?” Fiona asked, confused.

“They’re home.” The woman responded, as if it were common knowledge. “I’m just dropping some documents. Good luck for tomorrow.”

Fiona looked at the date on her phone. She facepalmed. She was indeed one day early.