A story
The Worst Day Ever
I woke up late.
Not the cute “five-minutes-late” late. The phone-died, alarm-never-rang, sun-already-high late. My heart dropped before my feet even touched the floor.
I rushed to get ready and somehow spilled water on my clothes. Then toothpaste fell on my shirt. I changed again. That shirt ripped a little at the seam. I ignored it. I was already losing.
Outside, the sky looked like it was judging me. The bus drove past without stopping. I waved like a fool. It didn’t care.
When I finally arrived where I needed to be, everyone was already there. Talking. Laughing. Looking put together. I tried to act normal, but my shoe made that embarrassing squeak noise with every step. Squeak. Squeak. Like my day needed sound effects.
Nothing went right after that.
I answered a question wrong. Dropped my things—everything—on the floor. Someone laughed, not even mean, just surprised, which somehow hurt more. My phone froze. My pen stopped working. My confidence slowly packed its bags and left.
By afternoon, I stopped expecting good things. I walked carefully, spoke less, and counted the hours until the day would finally end.
But then… something small happened.
Someone held the door for me. A stranger smiled. The sun came out for five quiet minutes. And for a moment, I realized: even the worst day ever eventually runs out of time.
That night, I lay in bed thinking, Today was awful.
But it wasn't over.....