There are times in life when everything is perfect and there are times when everything spirals out of control. However, whenever anything and virtually everything turns out horribly, I know I can always find refuge within myself, but what can I do when the problem I face is within myself? Where can I turn to? Honestly, I believe that life's greatest struggles and challenges are always with ourselves. I remeber vividly that one June day in my grade nine year at Steveston London.
Summer was here! Classes were out and the summer only provided opportunities of youthful shinanigans and adventures. Well... not exactly. It was June and yet I was still at school, as were twenty-nine of my classmates. Our foreheads were drenched in sweat as we waited anxiously and nervously outside the vast double doors of the Shark Tank. The dreaded english nine final exam was waiting through tose doors and no one dared to test their meager recollection of binders and binders worth of notes and esaays.
Screech!!!! The doors of the gym creaked open with a deafening screech and the students piled into the gym one by one. Last one to enter, I stood helplessly as the doors shut behind me, trapping thirty hopeless souls. The musky smell of hours and hours of prepubescent teenagers lingered through every inch of the room. I hurried to my desk and scrambled to scrounge my supplies from the depths of my bag, without disrupting the silence of the room.
The instructor's voice filled the room as the final instructions were given. The same speech was given every test, "Don't forget your name. Don't cheat! Have Fun!" My face cringed at the thought of "having fun" with a test as I opened the exam booklet. My eyes scanned across the freshly photocopied pages. Question one! My mind blanked. Question two! Still no response!
My jaw tightened as the gravity of the situation finally hit me. I didn't remember anything. Nights and nights of cramming had been for waste as the fatigue of back to back all-nighters was beginning to take its toll on both my body and mind. I was trapped in a room with nothing except a test and twenty-nine other trapped souls around me.... twenty-nine sets of "helpers". Suddenly a small whisper erupted from within me.
"Just a little peek," a voice whispered with a devilish snicker, "Just a one peek won't hurt. No one would know not even the instructor!" I glanced up at the instructor. Mr. Johnson, the laziest teacher in the entire universe, sat at the instructor's table, feet perched on the table and book on his face, upside down, as his soft yet thundering snores filled the room.
Once again, the voice returned, this time with a mental image and form. "Think of how proud your parents would be if you brought home a 100% in English. Just a little peek, just one won't hurt!" My mind immediately overflowed with the thought of my parents giving me pats on the back and other forms of congratulations.
The voice returned once again, this time with a body, "Just a little peek won't hurt anyone. Just think of it as a chance to check over your answers!" as the voice laughed with a mesmerizing and tantalizingly tone. My head began to turn on its own. Philip's test was just slightly over to the left exposed. Simply the thought of Philip's amazing results and marks made my mouth drool with excitement and lust.
Once again, the voice returned prompting and tempting once more, now with a devilish face and captivating smile," Just a peek. It's just a slight peek." My head turned by itself and this time, something else caught my attention. Tattered and worn from years of abuse, my wristband, "WWJD" sat on my wrist. WWJD. Simple letters that stood for monumental things to me. The voice returned again but now it was not just a goice. It had a face, a body that was surprisingly familiar, like a long lost brother or a twin brother... an identical twin brother. The voice had a body like my own or rather, the voice was a part of me.
Now with a voice filled with impatience and anger the voice screamed, "Just take a peek!!!" Its message shook and resonated through ever corner of my mind.
However, I just sat there, looking and playing with my wristband, asking myself, "What would Jesus do?" Memories of countless Sundays after Sundays of life lessons, teachings and instructions filled my mind as did Mr. Johnson's speech on cheating at the beginning of the class. The voice lost his head. The voice lost its body. The voice was reduced to a dull roar. The voice dulled simply to a soft whisper.
Again the voice tried, "Quick! Just take a peek before Philip hands the test to the teacher!" Simply smiling with a grin, I stood up and handed my test in, blank.
As the summer ended, I looked back at the youthful shenanigans and adventures, but as my report card was mailed home, I grimaced at my marks. However a small part of me smiled inside. Sure, it was a F, but it was a F that I had earned.
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