Kai slammed his folder on his face, over and over. He wanted to scream, wanted to throw something, maybe even break something. It was infuriating. Nothing would make the frustration go away. After about ten seconds of the folder meeting his face, he stopped, gently setting the folder down on the desk. He sighed loudly, trying to calm down, and went back to work.
Writing out answers to math problems, answering questions about biology, trying to remember what second person was, struggling to stay awake, eyes burning. He really needed to learn to space this studying out, instead of trying to cram it into his head the night before.
He knew he never would, which was probably a bad habit to have, but this way he was stress free for the weeks leading up then he had, at most, two stressful nights then boom, he was all done. Logic, right?
He must have looked insane. There were definitely dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, the computer monitor lighting up his face, the dark house only serving to make everything creepier. If he woke up his sister right now, at 3 a.m., she would definitely scream. He probably looked like a zombie.
Since it was currently three in the morning and he was running on coffee and less than three hours of sleep in the past day (probably not good, but whatever), everything was automatically ten times funnier. The thought of waking up his sister looking like he did made him start to laugh.
He tried to laugh quietly so he didn't wake up his family. He failed, of course, but only because he fell out of his chair and hit his knee on the sharp corner of the desk. Tears pricked his eyes from the pain and from laughter, and he shook, trying to catch his breath. It was a miracle no one was out here to see who was being so loud.
Actually, scratch that. Nya was out of her room, rubbing her eyes, looking at the shaking form of her brother. She walked over and nudged him with her foot, knocking him over so he was lying on his side, curled into a ball. She sighed and left, closing her door behind her. Kai, of course, thought that was hilarious. He laughed even harder, stomach starting to hurt.
He tried to think clearly. He needed sleep, that much was obvious, but he also needed to finish studying for his finals. Light-headed, short on breath, his laughter slowly subsided until he was only giggling slightly. Not that he would ever admit to giggling. He had a reputation, after all (or so he told himself).
What did he need open now? Word? He minimized the screen and immediately started cracking up again. Why, why did the background need to be a cat in toast? It was official, wasn't it. He was going crazy. He yawned loudly. The floor was looking awfully comfy right now. His eyelids drooped despite his best efforts to keep them open. (His parents found him asleep on the floor the next morning.)
Do you like the thing I'm submitting for my Creative Writing Final? Because fuck finals.