In our mock GCSE English Language exam, one of the questions was to describe the room we were in. I chose to do another one, because it allowed to write about music. I decided to give this one a go anyway, just for shits and giggles. This is 100% true and probably not very interesting-I ended up not describing the room, but just writing about my thoughts while I was sat in there.

I really hate this hall. It's a sports hall, a high ceiling with pastel blue walls. It reminds me of some kind of asylum. At either end, there are huge doors, dark blue metal, shut tightly. They don't stop the wind from getting in though. The letters A to V are stuck on the front wall, and the numbers 1 to 10 are posted along the side. The F is unfortunately placed - it's made the Gymnastics sign say "Gymnafstics".

In my Maths exams, I was unlucky enough to be sitting in C1-three rows away from the door leading outside, and in the very front seat. There was always a teacher stood right in front of me, and I was overcome with paranoia, feeling like they were laughing at me every time I got stuck on a question. Maybe they were - I did get stuck a lot.

At the end of my Maths exam, Paper 2, I tried my best to curl up into a ball. Obviously this was difficult, as I was sat on a chair and there was a desk in front of me - the closest I came was resting my feet on the bar connecting the desk legs and wrapping my arms around myself. I could only resist the urge to play with the compass for so long, though, and soon I'd picked it up and was prodding random items on the desk with it. There was somebody coming up behind me, I could tell. I tried to block out the voice of my Religious Education teacher, who always talked too much. She was telling me how my book was in her office, if I wanted to come and get it, and glaring at me in a way that said I'd better get it. After she'd left, I tried to use my non-existent telekinetic powers to throw my water bottle at her. Oddly enough, it didn't work.

The height of the room was starting to get to me though, and I was feeling slightly dizzy as I looked around. Being at the front did that to me, with nothing to look at other than pastel blue walls.

I got lucky this time, though. I'm not right at the front. I've just finished my German exam, and I'm trying to find something to occupy my time. Danielle is sitting to my right - I'm in E3, this time, and she's in F3. I'm finding it hard to resist the urge to talk to her - I haven't seen her in so long. I think she's desperate to talk too. She's pushed her pale blonde hair behind her ears so many times, but it's already tied back. Her green eyes are darting round the room, and I'm having to stop my own, just a shade darker (Danielle's are almost blue) meeting them.

Krystina's in front of me, staring straight ahead. Behind me, Rebecca is sniffling. She's prone to colds, and it's especially chilly at the moment. Mrs Pearson, the H.E teacher of doom, is creeping towards us. Well, sort of. It's actually more like stomping. Rebecca goes into a coughing fit, and I know it's deliberate. I clasp my hands together in silent prayer to the deity of my choice.

"Oh no, no, no no no," I mutter, under my breath or maybe in my head. This almost gives way to a "Holy shit!" when I think the aforementioned H.E teacher is behind me, but luckily I am successful in holding it back.

With Rebecca behind me, and my H.E teacher wandering the hall, I'm reminded of the H.E exam.

I was in A6 then, with Rebecca in front of me in A5; her surname begins with M and mine begins with N, so we're often near each other in exams. We were right against the wall, and a white board was situated on the wall beside me. It's impossible to take two hours on a H.E exam, especially when you're sitting the foundation paper (that struck me as odd-our target grades were Bs and Cs, so why were we doing a paper that would prevent us from achieving those marks?). Rebecca had finished in half the time, and had an hour to kill. I watched her, as I finished the last question. I'd finished fifteen minutes after her, due to my tendency to write more than necessary. I went back, deciding to colour in my sketches from earlier. I couldn't sit still for another forty-five minutes, I've got far too much energy to be trustworthy for that long with nothing to do, especially when I'm supposed to be sat in silence.

After I'd finished colouring, I decided to sharpen my pencils-all of them. I had a fight with the orange and green and had to empty my pencil sharpener a number of times. A couple of broken leads fell onto the floor, and Rebecca took her eyes away from the aeroplane she'd made with a pen, ruler and couple of pencils. She watched the leads, her ears picking up on the sound of them hitting the fire retardant mats. I hate those mats; I always trip over the joints. She could probably hear me straightening my papers and tapping my feet in some unknown rhythm, and at one point, I was sure I could hear her tapping her fingers along with me. She's used to it-we were seated this way last year, too, and I'd started tapping my fingers in boredom then, too.

I drag my thoughts from the H.E exam, as it's not particularly interesting. Instead, I think I should apologise for not meeting Rebecca. She had phoned me earlier that morning (our exam hadn't started until 11am) and asked me to wait for her outside of the school. It was pouring down with rain, so I decided to wait inside, where the seat listings were, instead. Mrs Greenwood, the head of year, had been there in her Green-Machine and hurried us all down to the Sports Hall. I'd tried to sneak back to meet Rebecca, but Mrs Greenwood was abnormally cheery and I desperately wanted to avoid her. I'm worried she'll be angry with me (Rebecca, not the head of year), and she can get quite manipulative when angry. I look around at the people sitting in front of me in the surrounding rows. As I'm only three seats back, I can only watch people in the first two seats, and risk glancing over at Danielle. I'm not really eager to do this as I'll probably giggle and end up having my paper torn up.

I seek out Caroline's ponytail. She's in G, there's a row between us, and she's two seats forward. I can only see her dark blue bobble and her mousy hair, and I'm not sure whether she's still working, or whether she's just avoiding looking at those disgusting walls.

A voice breaks the silence, and I look up in relief. The teacher warns us that there's only five minutes left, and to make sure all the information is on our sheet. I glance over at it, seeing my candidate number, centre number, name, and the name of my teacher. Everything's correct, and I don't check over my paper, as I've already done it at least twice.

I wriggle around in my seat, before settling and lacing my fingers together, resting my chin on them. It's quite painful, bending them back in a way that doesn't seem sensible, but I can't be bothered to move. It's almost comforting.

I watch the back of Krystina's head, not totally sure what I expect it to do, and then finally the teacher speaks again. He reminds us that we're still under exam conditions, and can't have any contact until we leave the room.

Another teacher starts dismissing us.

"The next two rows at either end," she says, and my row - that's E - and Danielle's row (F) leave, along with U at the opposite end.

"I only said the next row!" the teacher squawks, and I smack Danielle with my pencil case. She grins, but doesn't return to her seat like the rest of her row. Krystina looks up from where she's picking her coat up and says "She said next TWO rows, didn't she?". I nod and smile, Krystina giggles and we leave, an exam free weekend stretching ahead of us…