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Sameera rubbed at her eyes in the face of the bright library lights. There was no way she was going to get this essay done by tonight, she thought, dreading the response from her professor. She hadn't even been here for two months yet and already she was making mistakes. She'd never had access to this many books before, and it was easy to be distracted by the sheer volume of them, let alone all the things that were contained within them. If it was up to her, she would spend all of her time in the library or sleeping.
As it was, though, the paper on her laptop screen continued to look blankly back at her as she stared at it, unwilling to write her essay for her. A bit rude, she thought, running her hands through her hair. She'd only taken this class because she thought it might be fun, and here it was turning out to be more boring than anything she'd done before. At least, that's what it felt like at the moment.
Sameera would've bet her entire grade in the class that her twin sister, Safiya, was having a lot more fun than she was with her essay right now. She probably wasn't even writing an essay, Sameera thought with some jealousy, the cursor on her laptop blinking unhelpfully as she let out another deep sigh.
She scooped up some of the books and began pacing with them. She flipped through a few pages, and grumbled. She'd rather be reading about anything other than thermodynamics right now. Was that even part of her essay? She'd just snatched up the book without thinking about it too much because her professor had been obsessed with the author, going on and on about how great she was. Sameera, frankly, found the book difficult to read and was dreading the rest of the semester if she had to do this again and again.
Again, the cursor blinked, almost accusing her of her procrastination, which was, yes, true, but it didn't help. She would have to ask her mom for a timer or something for her birthday that year. Something that would get her back on track so she could manage to focus on something for once. She may have had a good memory, but she hated writing things that were just boring to her. If she could just read, that would be enough for her, but that was impossible if she wanted to have an actual job, according to one of mom's friends. Sameera hated the lady, and her stupid haircut, too, but she would die before admitting a challenge at anything, and besides, she did admit that sometimes she had fun, sitting in the library and looking at books.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above her head, and she covered her ears, imagining that she was at home and that her mother would stop by soon to bring her something sweet to eat. Maybe some dates, as she'd recently rediscovered a love for them.
Her daydream was disturbed when she heard a group of friends chuckling quietly at a table that was several feet away, and she felt briefly envious of them. What fun would they be having, what would they be saying? It did not cross her mind for a second that they might be laughing at her, as she had never experienced that type of bullying before, and besides that it did not seem as they were. If anything, they were laughing at one boy that Sameera knew for a fact was in one of her classes, but it wasn't a harsh type of laugh. She stuffed her nose back in her book.
She'd never really had those types of friends growing up, and she was a little disappointed that she hadn't made at least one friend since she had moved to university with her sister. She'd thought she would make one, but her roommate was out every time Sameera felt like sitting on her bed and reading, or scrolling on her phone and procrastinating things like the essay, and then to top it off she would come back late and night and wake Sameera up, no matter how quiet she seemed to be trying to be, it just wasn't working. Sameera had even considered wearing earplugs or a sleep mask to sleep in so the noise and slight light wouldn't wake her up.
She looked at the library clock. 11:59. She only had until 11:59 PM, and then she would have to turn in her work, which at the moment was still nothing. She typed in a few words before pushing her head down on the keyboard. She didn't know if she could finish the essay, or if she wanted to email to ask for some more time to work on it. The professor had seemed pretty strict on the late work policy, she thought with some dread in her mind. Sameera held her head in her hands now, and added a few more words.
Phew! A whole paragraph done. At this rate, she'd be done at the end of the year, considering that she'd been given this assignment a few weeks ago. She chuckled softly to herself before imagining failing the class. She took another deep breath in. The group of friends seemed to get louder, and she hoped they would just be quiet, or at the very least stop by and offer to do her essay for her. That would be nice.
Sameera glanced at the clock a second time, now certain that it was maliciously moving faster just to spite her. Hadn't it just been 3:30? Why was it 4:14? She looked at the clock, glaring at it now. She just wished that she had some more time, she thought, staring blankly at the paragraph in front of her. It didn't even feel like she had written the thing, now that she glanced at again. It hardly made any sense at all, she thought with no small amount of despair in her mind. She went over it again, and again, and again, each time changing another word to better suit her purpose, and then she would come up with a different idea, opening a new document on her computer in case that one turned out better.
Oh boy, she thought, considering the ramifications. She should definitely stop procrastinating on these things.
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Sameera rubbed at her eyes in the face of the bright library lights. There was no way she was going to get this essay done by tonight, she thought, dreading the response from her professor. She hadn't even been here for two months yet and already she was making mistakes. She'd never had access to this many books before, and it was easy to be distracted by the sheer volume of them, let alone all the things that were contained within them. If it was up to her, she would spend all of her time in the library or sleeping.
As it was, though, the paper on her laptop screen continued to look blankly back at her as she stared at it, unwilling to write her essay for her. A bit rude, she thought, running her hands through her hair. She'd only taken this class because she thought it might be fun, and here it was turning out to be more boring than anything she'd done before. At least, that's what it felt like at the moment.
Sameera would've bet her entire grade in the class that her twin sister, Safiya, was having a lot more fun than she was with her essay right now. She probably wasn't even writing an essay, Sameera thought with some jealousy, the cursor on her laptop blinking unhelpfully as she let out another deep sigh.
She scooped up some of the books and began pacing with them. She flipped through a few pages, and grumbled. She'd rather be reading about anything other than thermodynamics right now. Was that even part of her essay? She'd just snatched up the book without thinking about it too much because her professor had been obsessed with the author, going on and on about how great she was. Sameera, frankly, found the book difficult to read and was dreading the rest of the semester if she had to do this again and again.
Again, the cursor blinked, almost accusing her of her procrastination, which was, yes, true, but it didn't help. She would have to ask her mom for a timer or something for her birthday that year. Something that would get her back on track so she could manage to focus on something for once. She may have had a good memory, but she hated writing things that were just boring to her. If she could just read, that would be enough for her, but that was impossible if she wanted to have an actual job, according to one of mom's friends. Sameera hated the lady, and her stupid haircut, too, but she would die before admitting a challenge at anything, and besides, she did admit that sometimes she had fun, sitting in the library and looking at books.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above her head, and she covered her ears, imagining that she was at home and that her mother would stop by soon to bring her something sweet to eat. Maybe some dates, as she'd recently rediscovered a love for them.
Her daydream was disturbed when she heard a group of friends chuckling quietly at a table that was several feet away, and she felt briefly envious of them. What fun would they be having, what would they be saying? It did not cross her mind for a second that they might be laughing at her, as she had never experienced that type of bullying before, and besides that it did not seem as they were. If anything, they were laughing at one boy that Sameera knew for a fact was in one of her classes, but it wasn't a harsh type of laugh. She stuffed her nose back in her book.
She'd never really had those types of friends growing up, and she was a little disappointed that she hadn't made at least one friend since she had moved to university with her sister. She'd thought she would make one, but her roommate was out every time Sameera felt like sitting on her bed and reading, or scrolling on her phone and procrastinating things like the essay, and then to top it off she would come back late and night and wake Sameera up, no matter how quiet she seemed to be trying to be, it just wasn't working. Sameera had even considered wearing earplugs or a sleep mask to sleep in so the noise and slight light wouldn't wake her up.
She looked at the library clock. 11:59. She only had until 11:59 PM, and then she would have to turn in her work, which at the moment was still nothing. She typed in a few words before pushing her head down on the keyboard. She didn't know if she could finish the essay, or if she wanted to email to ask for some more time to work on it. The professor had seemed pretty strict on the late work policy, she thought with some dread in her mind. Sameera held her head in her hands now, and added a few more words.
Phew! A whole paragraph done. At this rate, she'd be done at the end of the year, considering that she'd been given this assignment a few weeks ago. She chuckled softly to herself before imagining failing the class. She took another deep breath in. The group of friends seemed to get louder, and she hoped they would just be quiet, or at the very least stop by and offer to do her essay for her. That would be nice.
Sameera glanced at the clock a second time, now certain that it was maliciously moving faster just to spite her. Hadn't it just been 3:30? Why was it 4:14? She looked at the clock, glaring at it now. She just wished that she had some more time, she thought, staring blankly at the paragraph in front of her. It didn't even feel like she had written the thing, now that she glanced at again. It hardly made any sense at all, she thought with no small amount of despair in her mind. She went over it again, and again, and again, each time changing another word to better suit her purpose, and then she would come up with a different idea, opening a new document on her computer in case that one turned out better.
Oh boy, she thought, considering the ramifications. She should definitely stop procrastinating on these things.
Sameera rubbed at her eyes in the face of the bright library lights. There was no way she was going to get this essay done by tonight, she thought, dreading the response from her professor. She hadn't even been here for two months yet and already she was making mistakes. She'd never had access to this many books before, and it was easy to be distracted by the sheer volume of them, let alone all the things that were contained within them. If it was up to her, she would spend all of her time in the library or sleeping.
As it was, though, the paper on her laptop screen continued to look blankly back at her as she stared at it, unwilling to write her essay for her. A bit rude, she thought, running her hands through her hair. She'd only taken this class because she thought it might be fun, and here it was turning out to be more boring than anything she'd done before. At least, that's what it felt like at the moment.
Sameera would've bet her entire grade in the class that her twin sister, Safiya, was having a lot more fun than she was with her essay right now. She probably wasn't even writing an essay, Sameera thought with some jealousy, the cursor on her laptop blinking unhelpfully as she let out another deep sigh.
She scooped up some of the books and began pacing with them. She flipped through a few pages, and grumbled. She'd rather be reading about anything other than thermodynamics right now. Was that even part of her essay? She'd just snatched up the book without thinking about it too much because her professor had been obsessed with the author, going on and on about how great she was. Sameera, frankly, found the book difficult to read and was dreading the rest of the semester if she had to do this again and again.
Again, the cursor blinked, almost accusing her of her procrastination, which was, yes, true, but it didn't help. She would have to ask her mom for a timer or something for her birthday that year. Something that would get her back on track so she could manage to focus on something for once. She may have had a good memory, but she hated writing things that were just boring to her. If she could just read, that would be enough for her, but that was impossible if she wanted to have an actual job, according to one of mom's friends. Sameera hated the lady, and her stupid haircut, too, but she would die before admitting a challenge at anything, and besides, she did admit that sometimes she had fun, sitting in the library and looking at books.
The fluorescent lights buzzed above her head, and she covered her ears, imagining that she was at home and that her mother would stop by soon to bring her something sweet to eat. Maybe some dates, as she'd recently rediscovered a love for them.
Her daydream was disturbed when she heard a group of friends chuckling quietly at a table that was several feet away, and she felt briefly envious of them. What fun would they be having, what would they be saying? It did not cross her mind for a second that they might be laughing at her, as she had never experienced that type of bullying before, and besides that it did not seem as they were. If anything, they were laughing at one boy that Sameera knew for a fact was in one of her classes, but it wasn't a harsh type of laugh. She stuffed her nose back in her book.
She'd never really had those types of friends growing up, and she was a little disappointed that she hadn't made at least one friend since she had moved to university with her sister. She'd thought she would make one, but her roommate was out every time Sameera felt like sitting on her bed and reading, or scrolling on her phone and procrastinating things like the essay, and then to top it off she would come back late and night and wake Sameera up, no matter how quiet she seemed to be trying to be, it just wasn't working. Sameera had even considered wearing earplugs or a sleep mask to sleep in so the noise and slight light wouldn't wake her up.
She looked at the library clock. 11:59. She only had until 11:59 PM, and then she would have to turn in her work, which at the moment was still nothing. She typed in a few words before pushing her head down on the keyboard. She didn't know if she could finish the essay, or if she wanted to email to ask for some more time to work on it. The professor had seemed pretty strict on the late work policy, she thought with some dread in her mind. Sameera held her head in her hands now, and added a few more words.
Phew! A whole paragraph done. At this rate, she'd be done at the end of the year, considering that she'd been given this assignment a few weeks ago. She chuckled softly to herself before imagining failing the class. She took another deep breath in. The group of friends seemed to get louder, and she hoped they would just be quiet, or at the very least stop by and offer to do her essay for her. That would be nice.
Sameera glanced at the clock a second time, now certain that it was maliciously moving faster just to spite her. Hadn't it just been 3:30? Why was it 4:14? She looked at the clock, glaring at it now. She just wished that she had some more time, she thought, staring blankly at the paragraph in front of her. It didn't even feel like she had written the thing, now that she glanced at again. It hardly made any sense at all, she thought with no small amount of despair in her mind. She went over it again, and again, and again, each time changing another word to better suit her purpose, and then she would come up with a different idea, opening a new document on her computer in case that one turned out better.
Oh boy, she thought, considering the ramifications. She should definitely stop procrastinating on these things.
Curveball Evil Genie-Us
Your wish is my command.
You are given more time, but is it too much? You blink, and suddenly the entirety of your world shifts. You're now a Doctorate student, and Professor @tythra is grilling you on how much you have procrastinated on the biggest paper of your life. Once more, she is asserting that you should have learned more discipline... So now, she is going to teach you.
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Oct 17, 2020 14:05:13 GMT
Posted In study session on Oct 17, 2020 14:05:13 GMT
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Check out their information page here.
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Curveball Evil Genie-Us
Your wish is my command.
You are given more time, but is it too much? You blink, and suddenly the entirety of your world shifts. You're now a Doctorate student, and Professor @tythra is grilling you on how much you have procrastinated on the biggest paper of your life. Once more, she is asserting that you should have learned more discipline... So now, she is going to teach you.
Curveball Evil Genie-Us
Your wish is my command.
You are given more time, but is it too much? You blink, and suddenly the entirety of your world shifts. You're now a Doctorate student, and Professor @tythra is grilling you on how much you have procrastinated on the biggest paper of your life. Once more, she is asserting that you should have learned more discipline... So now, she is going to teach you.
Every year Tythra met idiotic students, but never in all her years of teaching did she see one that… almost appeared as if she skipped her undergrad entirely. Was her uncle rich? Was her degree bought? How had she not had any discipline? It was like she was listening to Tythra but didn’t hear a thing she was saying!
“I have never met such a sad excuse for a waste of space in my life.” Tythra continued on. “You had the entire year to work on this. A year and you didn’t even try to come up with a thesis? People would kill for your position.” But clearly, she did not appreciate it.
Such a disappointment these young students were nowadays. Back in Tythra’s day she would never have gone to her professor with less than… exemplary work. Otherwise, she would have suffered the consequences. Sigh, how youth is wasted on the young. She had all this time, all this potential, and she squandered it.
Tythra, however, was a professor. She would stop at nothing to make sure that her students learned… the easy way or the hard way. Tythra grabbed a meter stick. She walked in front of the girl. With each step, the tip of the stick slammed on the floor.
“First, I believe a letter to the administration should be in place.” Rap. “I don’t think that your position in our esteemed university is well-earned.” Rap. “Perhaps they’ll make an example of you. Students should not rely on their uncle to buy their way into school.” Rap. “And with the recent… investigations surrounding unearned acceptances, you and your uncle might be facing serious jail time.” Rap.
Tythra stopped right in front of the woman. She leaned down, peering over her glasses to look straight into Sameera’s eyes. So much potential, so much time, wasted. Would she ever learn the error of her ways? Would she repent, become better from this experience? Tythra would make sure of it.
She stood back up and her lips curled into a polite smile. The smile, however, did not reach her eyes. They were cold, disappointed, and angry. She lifted the meter stick. “It’s time that you learn some discipline, Sameera. That will be my last lesson I will teach you as your Professor.” Tythra’s voice was quiet, but firm as she brought down the meter stick intending to beat the discipline into her.
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Oct 20, 2020 18:16:48 GMT
Posted In study session on Oct 20, 2020 18:16:48 GMT
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Every year Tythra met idiotic students, but never in all her years of teaching did she see one that… almost appeared as if she skipped her undergrad entirely. Was her uncle rich? Was her degree bought? How had she not had any discipline? It was like she was listening to Tythra but didn’t hear a thing she was saying!
“I have never met such a sad excuse for a waste of space in my life.” Tythra continued on. “You had the entire year to work on this. A year and you didn’t even try to come up with a thesis? People would kill for your position.” But clearly, she did not appreciate it.
Such a disappointment these young students were nowadays. Back in Tythra’s day she would never have gone to her professor with less than… exemplary work. Otherwise, she would have suffered the consequences. Sigh, how youth is wasted on the young. She had all this time, all this potential, and she squandered it.
Tythra, however, was a professor. She would stop at nothing to make sure that her students learned… the easy way or the hard way. Tythra grabbed a meter stick. She walked in front of the girl. With each step, the tip of the stick slammed on the floor.
“First, I believe a letter to the administration should be in place.” Rap. “I don’t think that your position in our esteemed university is well-earned.” Rap. “Perhaps they’ll make an example of you. Students should not rely on their uncle to buy their way into school.” Rap. “And with the recent… investigations surrounding unearned acceptances, you and your uncle might be facing serious jail time.” Rap.
Tythra stopped right in front of the woman. She leaned down, peering over her glasses to look straight into Sameera’s eyes. So much potential, so much time, wasted. Would she ever learn the error of her ways? Would she repent, become better from this experience? Tythra would make sure of it.
She stood back up and her lips curled into a polite smile. The smile, however, did not reach her eyes. They were cold, disappointed, and angry. She lifted the meter stick. “It’s time that you learn some discipline, Sameera. That will be my last lesson I will teach you as your Professor.” Tythra’s voice was quiet, but firm as she brought down the meter stick intending to beat the discipline into her.
Every year Tythra met idiotic students, but never in all her years of teaching did she see one that… almost appeared as if she skipped her undergrad entirely. Was her uncle rich? Was her degree bought? How had she not had any discipline? It was like she was listening to Tythra but didn’t hear a thing she was saying!
“I have never met such a sad excuse for a waste of space in my life.” Tythra continued on. “You had the entire year to work on this. A year and you didn’t even try to come up with a thesis? People would kill for your position.” But clearly, she did not appreciate it.
Such a disappointment these young students were nowadays. Back in Tythra’s day she would never have gone to her professor with less than… exemplary work. Otherwise, she would have suffered the consequences. Sigh, how youth is wasted on the young. She had all this time, all this potential, and she squandered it.
Tythra, however, was a professor. She would stop at nothing to make sure that her students learned… the easy way or the hard way. Tythra grabbed a meter stick. She walked in front of the girl. With each step, the tip of the stick slammed on the floor.
“First, I believe a letter to the administration should be in place.” Rap. “I don’t think that your position in our esteemed university is well-earned.” Rap. “Perhaps they’ll make an example of you. Students should not rely on their uncle to buy their way into school.” Rap. “And with the recent… investigations surrounding unearned acceptances, you and your uncle might be facing serious jail time.” Rap.
Tythra stopped right in front of the woman. She leaned down, peering over her glasses to look straight into Sameera’s eyes. So much potential, so much time, wasted. Would she ever learn the error of her ways? Would she repent, become better from this experience? Tythra would make sure of it.
She stood back up and her lips curled into a polite smile. The smile, however, did not reach her eyes. They were cold, disappointed, and angry. She lifted the meter stick. “It’s time that you learn some discipline, Sameera. That will be my last lesson I will teach you as your Professor.” Tythra’s voice was quiet, but firm as she brought down the meter stick intending to beat the discipline into her.
Sameera felt the whirlwind of time pass her by as if she was in a daydream, and it wasn't a very pleasant one at that. More like a day-nightmare if she was being honest, but she didn't really have too much time to comment. Slight memories and a vague idea of a missed assignment spun her head around until she was facing an utterly unfamiliar woman. Was she supposed to know who that was?
Sameera gulped at the the site of the meter stick. There was nothing to measure, and she'd read enough books to recall that some teachers were a little more fond of corporal punishment, but she thought that such a thing didn't really happen where she was. Obviously, she was wrong. The woman's voice was harsh, and Sameera realized she was...a professor? The familiar feeling of a procrastinated paper weighed down on her, and as Tythra continued to speak, Sameera flinched.
She had always been proud of doing things for herself. Well, for herself and her twin, the pair of them helping each other out. She hoped Safiya was okay now, but she was more concerned for her uncle. She couldn't let him just take the fall for a mistake she'd made, and a small offended cry left her mouth. Sameera was a bit too concerned about her family to realize that perhaps Professor Tythra had made a comment about her own intelligence.
Regardless, there were no words needed to understand that physical harm was about to happen. She cringed away from the meter stick, which looked much more threatening when it was in this new Professor's hands than when it was just sitting to the side. Sameera cringed as the meter stick hit her, right on the shoulder, then on the other side. With tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks, she withstood the beating for half a minute before realizing that this couldn't possibly be legal, unless she missed some new law or other rule allowing it. She was an adult! She didn't have to take this!
Sameera dashed away, still afraid that the dangerous professor would come barreling down the hallway after her and she would find the world outside completely changed. Oh no, what if there were sentient robots now? What if her sister had become a sentient robot? Sameera didn't like that idea, not at all. She looked back over her shoulder, then started to search for a phone of some type. She strongly regretted leaving her cell on her bed, but now all she had to do was call Safiya. She would probably have the answers, Sameera thought, sighing to herself.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Sameera felt the whirlwind of time pass her by as if she was in a daydream, and it wasn't a very pleasant one at that. More like a day-nightmare if she was being honest, but she didn't really have too much time to comment. Slight memories and a vague idea of a missed assignment spun her head around until she was facing an utterly unfamiliar woman. Was she supposed to know who that was?
Sameera gulped at the the site of the meter stick. There was nothing to measure, and she'd read enough books to recall that some teachers were a little more fond of corporal punishment, but she thought that such a thing didn't really happen where she was. Obviously, she was wrong. The woman's voice was harsh, and Sameera realized she was...a professor? The familiar feeling of a procrastinated paper weighed down on her, and as Tythra continued to speak, Sameera flinched.
She had always been proud of doing things for herself. Well, for herself and her twin, the pair of them helping each other out. She hoped Safiya was okay now, but she was more concerned for her uncle. She couldn't let him just take the fall for a mistake she'd made, and a small offended cry left her mouth. Sameera was a bit too concerned about her family to realize that perhaps Professor Tythra had made a comment about her own intelligence.
Regardless, there were no words needed to understand that physical harm was about to happen. She cringed away from the meter stick, which looked much more threatening when it was in this new Professor's hands than when it was just sitting to the side. Sameera cringed as the meter stick hit her, right on the shoulder, then on the other side. With tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks, she withstood the beating for half a minute before realizing that this couldn't possibly be legal, unless she missed some new law or other rule allowing it. She was an adult! She didn't have to take this!
Sameera dashed away, still afraid that the dangerous professor would come barreling down the hallway after her and she would find the world outside completely changed. Oh no, what if there were sentient robots now? What if her sister had become a sentient robot? Sameera didn't like that idea, not at all. She looked back over her shoulder, then started to search for a phone of some type. She strongly regretted leaving her cell on her bed, but now all she had to do was call Safiya. She would probably have the answers, Sameera thought, sighing to herself.
Sameera felt the whirlwind of time pass her by as if she was in a daydream, and it wasn't a very pleasant one at that. More like a day-nightmare if she was being honest, but she didn't really have too much time to comment. Slight memories and a vague idea of a missed assignment spun her head around until she was facing an utterly unfamiliar woman. Was she supposed to know who that was?
Sameera gulped at the the site of the meter stick. There was nothing to measure, and she'd read enough books to recall that some teachers were a little more fond of corporal punishment, but she thought that such a thing didn't really happen where she was. Obviously, she was wrong. The woman's voice was harsh, and Sameera realized she was...a professor? The familiar feeling of a procrastinated paper weighed down on her, and as Tythra continued to speak, Sameera flinched.
She had always been proud of doing things for herself. Well, for herself and her twin, the pair of them helping each other out. She hoped Safiya was okay now, but she was more concerned for her uncle. She couldn't let him just take the fall for a mistake she'd made, and a small offended cry left her mouth. Sameera was a bit too concerned about her family to realize that perhaps Professor Tythra had made a comment about her own intelligence.
Regardless, there were no words needed to understand that physical harm was about to happen. She cringed away from the meter stick, which looked much more threatening when it was in this new Professor's hands than when it was just sitting to the side. Sameera cringed as the meter stick hit her, right on the shoulder, then on the other side. With tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks, she withstood the beating for half a minute before realizing that this couldn't possibly be legal, unless she missed some new law or other rule allowing it. She was an adult! She didn't have to take this!
Sameera dashed away, still afraid that the dangerous professor would come barreling down the hallway after her and she would find the world outside completely changed. Oh no, what if there were sentient robots now? What if her sister had become a sentient robot? Sameera didn't like that idea, not at all. She looked back over her shoulder, then started to search for a phone of some type. She strongly regretted leaving her cell on her bed, but now all she had to do was call Safiya. She would probably have the answers, Sameera thought, sighing to herself.
