I thought I had already entered college, but then I fell back into my senior year of high school. The moment we walked into the high school campus again, we all made a big bet with fate. No one came in willingly, and many people were afraid of leaving disappointed again... When everyone went to college, and we returned from the third year of high school to the third year of high school.
Step by step, I walked towards a place I would never go to again. From the moment I stepped into the school gate, many things were different.
When I was a fresh graduate, every time I passed by the repeat class next to me, I didn't understand. There were so many universities in the world. If I couldn't go to any one of them, I would go back to my senior year. Isn't this asking for trouble? Are these people masochists?
Later, I became one of these people. The me who should have been sitting in the university library is now sitting here, and I am sad.
Classical Chinese and political history are memorized to death, English that has a generation gap no matter how I read it, functions that cannot be solved, and test papers that are never finished and smell of fresh ink... Sometimes the tears fall from my eyes while memorizing the books, but what should I do? I am already sitting here, with no way out, so I have to cry and continue to memorize.
I looked very brave, but in fact, I felt uneasy and scared. It was like walking alone at night, falling down and bleeding, and sitting on the ground crying. No one came to help me after crying for a long time. There was silence around me. Looking at the wound, I suddenly realized that if the blood continued to flow like this, I would die, so I had to stand up on my own no matter how painful it was.
This myself is very pitiful, but I grew up in this way.
There is no place for me in the world before. From now on, I can only live every day without any distractions.
Is it still dark ahead? No, as long as you toughen your heart and move forward, you will definitely see the sun at dawn.
Everything in the past is a prologue.
The senior year belongs to you, the senior year belongs to us, dear, see you in one year!