The Hamilton in Trinity is something of a liminal space at the best of times, never mind at 4 am. But hey, it happens- when you have 14 exams in 12 days, you go hard on the one you're worried about and let the soft one lapse. Until you stagger out of geochemistry on a Friday afternoon, and realise you have one the next day that you haven't touched your notes on. It suddenly isn’t so soft. That of course is the morning your laptop decides to break. But that's okay because you are a beautiful young woman with no chill. You know there’s a 24-hour computer room. You came prepared. You have your sandwiches, comfy clothes, make-up, deodorant, all your notes and a flask because unlike those people who go around college holding a Starbucks cup you actually are poor.
1pm-3pm: This is fine. You have like a whole 20 hours. Loads of time.
5pm: Run into a friend as you search the toilets for one that isn't broken or completely gross. Boo at those lights that make everyone look like a corpse. You tell them of your grand intentions. They eyeball you. They're going out of a Friday night. Well they didn't take the stupid course with a 9.30 Saturday am exam did they? Jammy gits.
6pm: The first assault of tiredness. You can't remember what you used to do with your life, before exams. You aggravate a nearby cafe for a cup of hot water. You brought your own teabags.
8pm: It's darker now. The computer room slowly empties except for you, the computer scientists and a few folk watching dodgy videos. Well, the computer scientists are mostly on the mac lab but still.
10pm: You are alone. So what was that sound?
11pm: There's something in the walls, in the vents. You start to get flashbacks to that alien movie.
12am: Security arrives.
"Have you no home to go?"
"I have an exam in the morning."
They leave you in peace. Sound people.
1am: IT'S A RAT.
2am: NO. NO. THE VENDING MACHINE IS BROKEN.
3am: You attempt to befriend the rat. It stares into your soul.
4am: You are a god amongst men. All of creation is arrayed before you. You are all seeing, all knowing. The base human mind cannot comprehend all that you do, the size of the world and its interconnected glory, the meaning and meaninglessness of all things. You cry.
5am: A SOUND. A CLEANER. YOU GREET HIM AND HE GAZES AT YOU WITH VAGUE HORROR. Fear me not simple mortal. I am a benevolent god of knowledge.
6am: Okay, nearly there. Child's play. You should do this more often- you've gotten so much done.
7am: t-minus 2.5 hours. Time for a wander to clear your head. There's bound to be a coffee shop open somewhere to refresh yourself right?
7.30am: Trinity is creepy when it's empty. Proper zombie movie grey. A fox stares as you walk past. The seagulls are sleeping. Also every gate in the joint is locked. Even the secret magic gate on the side. Perhaps you should have taken that into account. You meet fellow students of the night wandering towards front arch in search of caffeine and freedom. You do not speak, but move together as one like birds flocking.
8am: All the gates are closed. Cannot get out. Drums, drums in the deep.
9.30am: It is complete. You sit. You wait to turn over the paper, squinting at the questions through the far side. Something is wrong. Something is off. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation? What was the course code for this again? A sense of horror builds. Turn over the paper and begin, the man says. These aren’t the right questions. You revised the wrong course. FECK.
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(Passed anyway.)
