An Endless Nightmare

I stared down at the math paper, my heart racing. The numbers became blurred, and figures turned into meaningless shapes. In my whole life, I was never good at calculations but I tried to learn math. But now none of it makes sense. My mind was blank, and every formula I’d crammed in the last few days had vanished into thin air. I could feel my hand going numb by the second. The clock on the wall ticked as, each second louder than the last.

I couldn’t wrap my head around the immense pressure. My friends breezed away easily, and I was struggling to understand the question. Each second felt like a lifetime and just then the last second came and the exam was over. I walked out of the hall, the weight of my failure crushing me with every step. I knew I hadn’t passed. The humiliation is already gnawing at me, reminding me of the expectations I’d failed to meet.

Results came in, and my parents’ disappointment was so thick that it choked me. Their silence deafened my ears. The subtle judgment from neighbors and classmates, felt like the whole world was closing in on me, as if my entire worth had been erased with that failed math paper. I heard the whispers, the murmurs of failure, disappointment. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t face it anymore.

There was no point in fighting anymore, I already proved that I am not capable of this challenge, So I decided to end it once and for all. Bleeding my way through seemed way too painful. Cyanide seemed way too expensive. So a freefall would be the best. But what if it didn't work?What if my calculations were wrong and I became paralyzed for the rest of my life? But once again I was never good at calculations. So I jumped to the hand of God…..

But turns out God didn’t take me that day. A flash of light sparked in front of me as I hit the floor and I became unconscious for some day. A vivid noise was coming towards me. It soon became louder and louder. It was my alarm clock. I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm, the same grating tone I had heard every morning. For a moment, everything felt normal, routine. I rubbed my eyes, a dull ache pressing behind them, and stared at the ceiling. But something was off. The exhaustion I felt, the weight in my chest—it wasn’t just the usual pre-exam anxiety. It felt different. Heavier.

I grabbed my phone from the bedside table, swiping to check the date. My heart stuttered. No, that couldn’t be right. My results were out yesterday. But my phone popped up the notification that today was my math exam. I stood frozen, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing I remembered was the exam and my failure. My hands trembled as I reached for my school uniform, half-expecting to find some clue that would explain why it felt like the same day all over again. Maybe I had been dreaming. A bad dream, nothing more.

By the time I walked into the exam hall, the fog in my mind was impossible to ignore. I took my seat, just like yesterday—or what felt like yesterday—and stared at the math paper in front of me. The same paper. The same questions. My pulse quickened, and my throat tightened. I blinked hard, trying to steady myself. I must have been dreaming yesterday, right? This was just a coincidence. It had to be.

I picked up my pen, but my mind was just as blank as it had been before. No matter how hard I tried, the answers slipped through my fingers, vanishing like smoke. The same helplessness crept over me, the same sinking feeling of failure. Every question felt like a cruel joke, taunting me.

When the exam ended, I walked out, my head spinning. It was all too familiar, like I was walking through a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. The same looks from my classmates, the same disappointed glance from my teacher. It was all playing out exactly as it had before. At home, the same crushing silence from my parents greeted me. The disappointment in their eyes, the unspoken judgment—it all felt suffocating. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it. It had to be a trick of my mind, right? Maybe I had imagined everything. Maybe the stress had finally caught up to me.

But that night, lying in bed, the weight of my failure hung heavy on me, just as it had before. The same darkness crept over me, pulling me back to the rooftop, to that same desperate urge to escape. I stood there again, staring into the void, wondering if this time… it would be different. I took a deep breath and stepped off the edge. But when I opened my eyes, the alarm was ringing. I bolted upright, my heart hammering in my chest. My phone buzzed on the bedside table, and I reached for it with shaky hands. The same day, Again.

The realization hit me slowly, l I hadn’t just imagined it. This was real. I was living the same day again. I was stuck in a loop. There was no escape. Not through failure, not through despair. No matter what I did, I would always wake up to face this math exam. I had to pass. I wasn’t going to fail again. Not this time. If the only way to break this loop was to pass, then I had to do whatever it took. I spent the entire morning poring over textbooks, forcing myself to absorb every equation, every formula. I wrote them down on the walls, on the ceiling, anywhere I could see. The numbers had to be burned into my mind, tattooed in my thoughts. I wouldn’t let them slip away like they had before.

As I sat in the exam hall for the fourth time, I felt something different. The paper was the same, but this time, the questions didn’t feel so impossible. I could see the logic, and the steps I needed to take. My pen moved steadily across the page, filling in the answers. My heart raced with every line I wrote, but I forced myself to stay calm. I couldn’t afford to panic. Not now. When the exam ended, I felt lighter. I had answered most of the questions. Maybe not perfectly, but enough to pass. I was sure of it. The following days were a blur. I waited anxiously for the results, the tension in my chest unbearable. Finally, the day came. My hands trembled as I tore open the envelope, and for the first time, I saw it: Pass.

I had done it. I had finally passed. The loop was broken. Relief washed over me. The weight that had crushed me for so long had lifted. I wasn’t a failure anymore. I wasn’t trapped. I had escaped. That night, I fell asleep with a smile on my face, the first genuine smile in what felt like an eternity.

But when I woke up the next morning, the alarm blared in the same familiar way. The same sun streamed through my window. The same voices echoed from downstairs. My heart sank, dread curling in my stomach. I looked at my phone. It was the same day. The same math exam. Again. I stared at the ceiling, the truth sinking in like ice through my veins. Passing the exam hadn’t freed me. I was still trapped. No matter what I did, no matter how many times I passed, I would always wake up here. I lay there, staring at the ticking clock, realizing the horrible truth.

The loop never ends.

(The end) —
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By Swapnil Sarker