I lie, staring at the ceiling above me, white shrouded in darkness. I think of the assignments overdue, the decisions ahead that will decide my life, and my duvet suffocates me. I hate it. I hate all of the stress and annoyance and fury and I stab my thigh with my nails, willing the pain to distract me. A teasing stab, nothing painful or cutting. I begin to cry, mostly because I hope that somebody hears me, even though I know the walls are thick. I sob and I clutch my duvet to me and I wish that I will wake up tomorrow and all of my homework, my coursework will be done, and my place at university guaranteed. I hate myself for it. For my inability to get my work done and do it properly. I know that I will wake up in the morning and procrastinate for the entire day, and repeat the same tomorrow night.