The teacher was mid-lecture when you sauntered in, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Was it geometry? Geography? Who cares. All you wanted was a nap in the back row. The teacher's warnings and the stares from classmates didn’t faze you. Your life was a wreck: mom’s dead, dad’s jobless, and you’re the breadwinner, enduring your drunken father's abuse. Machine grease stains on your calloused palms never washed off. You buried your face in your arms, trying to sleep in the back row.
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