Kayla sat there in her seat, her eyes locked onto her book like a padlock. They were red and covered in wriggly red ropey veins.

What was she doing?

Studying. She had to study for her exams so she could pass so she get into university so she could get a job so she could get paid so she could pay for things so she could buy things so she could live so she could work so she could provide so she could eat so she could live so she could progress so she accomplish her life's goal of success so she could impress so she access her parent's accept…ance.

Anyway, in that particular moment of time, she switched her line of sight and stared at her witch. And she stared at that watch, man. Oh yeah. It almost cried with how sorely she stared at it, actually, her eyes were glowing bright red and it looked like she was about to melt it with laser beams.

“nine forty-five. Perfect. Now I can relax,” she said, pushing out her chair and strolling out of the classroom.

She was still holding a pen in her hand in case she needed to jot down some quick notes that she thought of.

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This was because she needed to remember everything because she needed to get an A because she needed to pass because she needed to get into college because she needed to work because she needed to be diligent because she needed to get promoted because she needed to get more pay because she needed to provide because she needed to thrive because she needed to survive because to needed to be alive.

Now as she was walking, she stared down at her polished buccaneers. Look it up if you don't know. She loved how perfectly they gleamed from the sun's royal rays. It was like someone was rubbing stars in her eyes.

See, she made sure to polish her shoes extra perfectly (flawlessly, which is to say without flaws) since she needed to be in order since she needed to adhere since she needed to be accurate since she needed to be presentable since she didn't want to be resentable since she needed to be acceptable since she needed to be exceptional and professional.

She stared down at her watch again.

“Nine forty-eight. Perfect! I'm really making progress in my relaxation! In just twenty-seven minutes, I'll be fully relaxed and ready to go! I love it when I fully reach my relaxation mode peak! So much progress, so much success–YES!” she squealed, her eyes still bloodshot.

She was still clicking her pen too. She didn't want to lose her mojo. Clicking her pen every ten and half seconds ensured that her hand muscles were fired up and ready to ROAR.

You see, having hands that are ready to ROAR ensures the least probability of desktual injuries (injuries that happen at your desk) this ensures longevity for your hands which ensures longevity for your work which ensures a higher likelihood of passing which ensures a higher rate of acceptance at universities which ensures success with job-hunting which ensures money which ensures a satisfied tummy which ensures that your survival multiplies like a bunny which ensures everything is sunny which ensures things don't end up crummy.