Allow me to introduce myself, dear readers. My name is Thea Evans. I must admit, I was unsure of the purpose of disclosing this information. It was quite possible that no one would ever address me by my given name, thus rendering its mention unnecessary. Perhaps I was hesitant to reveal my identity as I was uncertain of the extent to which this narrative would unfold, or if it could even be deemed a legitimate story. Nonetheless, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Could a story be only one sentence long? Some might argue that yes, a single sentence can hold enough depth and meaning to constitute a story, while others might argue that a story requires more than just one sentence to fully develop and engage readers. As for why I was posing this question, I suppose I was searching for the best way to begin this story. Do I start from where I am now, or do I go back to weeks ago? The power was in my hands as the storyteller. I could choose to tell the truth or to weave a web of lies. However, if I chose the latter, what purpose would that serve? Therefore, I will be as honest as possible in my storytelling.

My lovely readers. Let me take you on a ride.

As I approached my birthday, I could not help but feel a sense of anticipation and reflection. At the age of seventeen, I was on the cusp of reaching an important milestone in my life. Upon contemplating this approaching milestone, I was also reminded of the fact that I should be in my final year of high school, eagerly preparing for graduation. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, I find myself in the eleventh grade instead.

I wanted to clarify something that might have crossed your mind when I mentioned that I got held back in school. I understand that the assumption might be that I was illiterate, but I want to assure you that this was not the case. I might have struggled in a certain subject or faced some challenges in my academic journey, but that did not define my intelligence or ability to learn. So please do not be mistaken and let any preconceived notions cloud your judgment of me.

Anyway … I was hospitalised for a couple of months, resulting in me being held back from moving up to twelfth grade. While I understand the school's policies and procedures, I could not help but feel that my medical situation should not have hindered my academic progress.

Oh, well!

 It served no purpose to dwell on the past and argue against the school's decision. If they saw fit to keep me at my current grade level, then I see no reason to dispute it.

Besides, I had so much crap going on in my head that it was like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. It was enough to make me stumble and fall over being held back. And to be honest, I was not even that into school anymore. It was like every day was a drag and I could not wait for the bell to ring. It was only a matter of time before I just stopped showing up to class. Not like anyone would even notice, you know? I was just another face in the crowd, blending in and fading away. But who cared?