It is time. The beatings of my heart reach a crescendo. I am Alice in the Wonderland, unfortunately at the mercy of numbers. The classroom is a prison, and today my verdict will be announced. Suddenly, as the jumpy antelope spots the threatening lion, somebody calls out that the queen of the Mighty Math Empire has arrived. Tick... tock. Time freezes as she enters the room and the temperature seems to drop ten degrees. Click. Click. Her every step sends waves, causing earthquakes in my kingdom of calmness. In her hands are our verdicts, the result of our trial with trigonometry. The grade is either a key which liberates me to the carefree embrace of summer, or, a lock that enslaves me further in the Empire of Math, bonding me to endless classes and make-up testes. One by one, names are called, and I keep on waiting. Some quickly glance at their grades, their lips suddenly growing a pair of wings, while others seem to be dumped on by a pile of bricks as they slump back into their seats. Finally, the moment I long but also dread the most- my name is called. The short aisle suddenly expands into a mile long as I wobble to the queen like a new born yearling, hoping for the best but preparing myself for the worst.