Odessa took a shaky breath as she sat down at her desk. In front of her was a stack of papers. She had never imagined that finals would be this much work. That wasn't to say that she didn't think they'd be hard, she knew they would be, but she hadn't expected anything like this and from all the rumors she knew it would only get harder when she was a senior. Senior. Right. She hadn't put a whole lot of thought into what life would be like other than the prospect of hopefully having a significant other. Her aunt would say that she thought about that subject a little too much and that she had no realistic vision for the future. Realistic? What was that word supposed to mean exactly? Odessa knew what she wanted to do with her life, she wanted to be a writer. She couldn't help but feel a certain love for books and stories from the moment she was a little girl. But that wasn't good enough for her aunt, her aunt wanted her to be more responsible and think about what life would be like once she was out of school. She couldn't help but shake her head a little, why couldn't making a decision be so much easier?On one hand, she had her aunt to please. She was, of course, paying for the bills and giving Odessa the chance to go to a much better school than she had ever had the chance to go to before. Odessa was thankful for that, even if the two of them were always at odds with each other. However, on the other, Odessa knew she had to be true to herself. Continuing to go to school for something that she knew in her heart she didn't love as much as her stories made her feel as though she wasn't giving it her best. Regardless, her aunt wouldn't let her go if she decided to go for writing, for some reason or another her aunt felt that wasn't a legitimate course of study.
She sighed as she stared at the papers, not really sure what to do, all of this was giving her a huge headache and probably accounted for all the sleepless nights lately. She just wanted things to make sense for once, she wanted something to go smoothly or at least get her and her aunt at a place where they could agree on something, not that that was ever likely. She picked up a pen, looking at each one as she started to scribble her name and fill out the blanks. In that moment it was almost as if her hand was deciding things that her brain couldn't even wrap itself around. When she finished she stared at the paper almost surprised that she had written what she did. Perhaps it was settled then. She'd do her best to figure out psychology, since it was what her aunt wanted, though at the same time she couldn't give up her love for writing. So she had settled on doing both. Of course that meant that her studies might suffer a little, but that meant she'd have to work ten times harder. She knew she'd have to make it work, somehow.
