Sreeja hated exams. Especially the finals. But that said, she always managed to get good grades; she didn't mess with that. She didn't want her parents to get upset. She had a life-time to choose what she wanted to do, later in life.
The tea her mother had kept by her table had gone cold. She yawned, picked up the cup and dragged herself to the microwave. She closed the door of the kitchen so the loud beeping of the microwave didn't disturb her parents.
She also picked up a couple of cookies on her way back; her tummy was growling mildly. She didn't bother switching on the lights in the living room, the tiny glow of the study lamp guiding her.
She stopped at the door to her room, her heart almost leaping to her mouth. She gasped, dropping the cup.
There was a girl hunched over her books. Hearing the sound, she turned slowly. And smiled.
It was her own self.