If I didn’t have an assignment still due, I know I’d be feeling a whole lot more tired. I absent-mindedly glanced over to my digital clock: 9 p.m. Still enough time. My cursor dragged down to my taskbar and clicked on messages. The group chat for the project hadn’t received a message since we’d made it the week before — not entirely ideal but not unmanageable. I quickly shot a message.
“Yo, you guys want to start the project? I can make the slideshow and share it now.”
While it was freshly sent in the chat, I opened up Google Slides and loaded up a decent-enough-looking template before creating the title slide and putting outline titles on the rest. It’d be ready when the rest of the group got back to my message.
30 minutes passed when I caught myself blankly staring at the group chat: nothing. I guessed it would be silly to expect an immediate response considering it was due tomorrow — pretty sure 11:59 p.m., at that. I began idly fidgeting with the pen on my desk, twirling it around and balancing it on my fingers.
Another hour passed as the time continued to glow: 10:30 p.m. Now, while I was able to rationalize no response in the first 30 minutes, a whole hour and a half now piqued my interest. I didn’t want to double text quite yet, though, so I opted to check the requirements on the Canvas post since last time I’d really just skimmed through it. As I read through it, nothing seemed out of the ordinary until a line caught my eye: Tomorrow, 12 a.m.: one attempt.
My heart stopped.
In disbelief, my eyes ran over the text so many times that they began to become irritated by the glow of the screen. We had less than an hour and a half before the whole project was due. I had to give myself a second to catch my breath. Feeling my pulse rise, I sent another message in the chat.
I just checked the due date and apparently it’s due at 12 a.m. tomorrow, so we should probably try to begin it now.
Haphazardly, I collected my sources and randomly designated myself a couple of the slides I’d outlined earlier before polishing them up. Once they were completed, I checked the group chat again: nothing. Even worse, the rest of the slideshow would be completely blank if not for my outlining headers.
Another hour. I now sat paralyzed in my seat by the time that now seemed to threaten to gauge out my pupils: 11:30 p.m. I looked at the group chat filled only with my digital pleas.
We don’t have a lot of time left to do it, so we should really do it now.
It shouldn’t take too long as long as we can get everybody to do a couple of slides.
Hello?
Several times I’d already tried completing the rest of the slideshow, but by then I had trouble maintaining enough composure to even keep my hands from shaking.
I had to get some air.
When the evening air hit me, I was washed over by a momentary relief. I started on a quick loop around campus before reaching Howe, noticing three people standing in front of its doors. As my eyes readjusted, I noticed they were more like silhouettes — for whatever reason, I couldn’t make out any of their details. My body was locked in place as I lay paralyzed before the outlines, struck with a peculiar sense of familiarity.
Familiarity…?
I nearly leapt out of my own body as my phone buzzed with a notification ping. For a moment, I kept my eyes locked on the figures before finding a message had been sent in the group chat.
Oh nice slideshow. Just submitted it!
Submitted? Submitted! I dropped to my knees as the words processed. I felt the figures circling around me as the world became a suffocating void — the half-complete presentation, our only attempt, being locked into the system. They hideously cackled while the void continued closing in, the air becoming harder to breathe, and…
My phone buzzed one final time before I was reduced to a whisper among the shadows.
You’re welcome 😉
(made using Canva)
