Legs shaking. Fingers tapping. Eyes rolling. It was our class orientation.
The whole room was quiet, all eyes focused on the instructor, his/her voice erupting inside the room in between. I could see how everyone’s eyes twitch in nervousness. As the room fall in silence – awkward silence – I could hear how each and everyone’s heart beating – full of worry and fear. I could feel my heart trying to burst out from my chest from our silence. A deafening silence I want to escape.
I could see the crooked smiles my classmates put on as they tell us what to expect this semester, mixing a sense of humor in between, trying to light up the tense atmosphere. But I could feel the seriousness in their voice when our laughter slowly dies down as they nonchalant expression creeps back on their faces. For them, this isn’t some kind of game, you can’t use your extra lives or reset the game because college isn’t a game.
“This year will be the hardest.”
I could hear those words being repeated like a broken record. Played again and again and again. Those words weren’t just a simple statement. It was a warning. It was our motivation. A motivation to strive hard and give our 101% best in everything we do.
Now that we’ve reached the next step, there will be no do-over or resets, only a game over.
We had seen a snippet of the real hell. How dangerous and challenging it is to pass through it. This is a war, where our books will be our armors and our knowledge will be our weapon.
This is the war of a Physical Therapy third year student.