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Brand Designer , Virtual Assistance , Business Entrepreneur @ University of Abuja
Abuja, Nigeria
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Last Days At Forcard's Highschool
<p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><p><br/></p><p>*THE LAST 30 DAYS OF FOCA HIGH*</p><p>*Day 30: The Bell That Didn’t Sound The Same*</p><p><br/></p><p>On a faithful Friday evening, the bell at Foca High rang different.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not the normal "get to class" ring that we used to sprint from in the hallways. This one sounded heavy. Final. Like the building itself knew it was almost over.</p><p><br/></p><p>Lockers were banging shut one by one. Seniors were carving names into the desks with keys and broken pens. "Class of 2026" was written in Sharpie on every surface. And the parking lot smelled like cheap perfume, Axe body spray, and that weird graduation anxiety you can’t explain.</p><p><br/></p><p>Me and my 3 girls sat on the bleachers like we always did after 3pm. Same spot. Same view of the empty football field. But this time nobody was laughing. Nobody was filming TikToks. Nobody was pretending.</p><p><br/></p><p>Tasha was crying quietly into her Foca High hoodie. Her boyfriend of 3 years broke up with her that morning in the cafeteria. Right by the vending machines. "College is far," he said. Like distance was something new to them. She just nodded and walked away. That was Tasha. Strong until she wasn’t. </p><p><br/></p><p>Maya was scrolling her ex’s IG under the bleachers, trying to look casual. He already had a new girl. And the worst part? Our prom pictures were still in his highlights. "Couple goals 2025" the caption said. She laughed when she saw it, but it didn’t reach her eyes. We all heard it.</p><p><br/></p><p>And me? </p><p>I was holding a letter in my backpack. College acceptance. The one I lied to everyone about getting. I told my mom, my aunties, my pastor. </p><p><br/></p><p>Truth is, I didn’t get in. Waitlisted everywhere. Rejected from the rest. And in 30 days, I have to tell my mom. The woman who’s been telling the whole church I’m going to UCLA in September.</p><p><br/></p><p>The sky was dimming over Foca High. The football lights came on early, even though practice was done. Like even the sun was tired of pretending everything was okay.</p><p><br/></p><p>Tasha looked at me and whispered, "What if the best days of our lives are already over?"</p><p><br/></p><p>Nobody answered. Because we were all thinking it.</p><p><br/></p><p>30 days left. 30 days to fix everything. 30 days to ruin everything.</p><p><br/></p><p>Day 29 starts tomorrow. And I have a feeling it’s gonna get messy.</p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><p><br/></p><p>If you’ve ever had a "last day" that broke you, you get it 💛</p><p>What do you think happens on Day 29? Comment below.</p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>---</p><p><br/></p>
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