Year 12, Epilogue: Not a fairy tale
Once upon a time lived a peasant girl. She was of rough stature and made a lot of fart jokes. Also poop jokes. Peak comedy.
All her life, she'd prayed for fairy god mother VTAC to grant her wish - to link her up with the infamous Prince Medicine. She even cheated on fairy god mother VTAC with other fairy god mothers, namely, UAC, UTAS, QTAC, SATAC and one particularly agitated TISC - a chunky old lady where even her name implied the sound of disappointment.
Peasant girl was hardworking, but not extremely bright. And that was okay. The fieldwork paid everyone. Lord ATAR paid his tenants on effort more than anything. At first the thought of Prince Medicine intimidated her; there were many suitors out there that were of better calibre than herself, and the journey to the Monash Palace was long and intimidating. However, our peasant lady wasn't one to give up. She was willing to take the route, despite the only carriages there being carried by a broker called Pearson. After all, the only other life that she could idealise was as a Bachelor of Science, where she stayed as a priestess, unwooed to anyone until our Prince Medicine saw her dedication.
So there she went, along her first challenges in district EI and Biology, giving it her best shot. Both were rewarding. Lord ATAR made one her second highest scaled while the other was weighted as her lowest, despite her earning virtually the same study score for both. There was plague and pain and vomit but she got through. She made it to a new county.
She went to broker Pearson and borrowed a horse called UCAT. He was very, very hard to tame. She kept falling off, maiming her arms, legs, knees, butt, you name it, falling off this horse. But somehow, she dragged herself through in the race to the palace. She didn't come first, not even close, but she crossed the district.
After the journey with UCAT, her legs were too injured to carry along well. She cried often, praying to her fairy god mothers and often rearranging her preference of suitors to pass time. Nights were cold, days were long. But all her life, she'd trained herself to do the work she needed to do. Perhaps her legs were not working as they used to, but she struggled with her arms to get as much done as she could. District Specialist Maths was especially hard to cross. She simply couldn't understand the logic of how to surpass it. But she did as much as she could and somehow made it through to court ATAR, who stamped her with a number.
Lord ATAR's court was terrifying and disgusting. Often people came out surprised, either from joy or shock. He had a weird kink for the sciences and he seemed to let down more of the humanities peasants than anyone. But our peasant girl had spent two years riding through science districts, so perhaps with pity, or with appreciation of her effort, he stamped her a higher bid. It still disgusted her that the prince wouldn't see her as who she was, but would consider her seemingly arbitrary price strongly in his selection of a suitor.
The bid still surprised her though. On one hand it felt insufficient to grab the Prince's attention, but at the same time, it felt wrong to be stamped such a high price. Was she really worth so much? Perhaps it was sheer luck? Or was it hard work? Either way the feeling of finding herself on the other end of the court of ATAR was disorienting enough not to think about it too much.
Then came the letter. When all the other chunky fairy godmothers - so chunky they were chunkier than ur mom - rejected her, it was lady VTAC that bore the news.
The prince of Monash wanted to see her.
HOW COULD THIS BE? She had never expected this. She couldn't even tame horse UCAT properly. Her price from Lord ATAR was well below Monash's prestige. Excitement and disbelief flooded her brains as she prepared for what was to come.
She would meet six of the Prince's consorts for 10 minutes, and they would ask them very arbitrary questions. She read about other people who had been through this in the past, the questions would be about everything and nothing, about what she would do if her mom and grandma got into a quibble about retiring homes, about why she wanted to meet the prince, about her own life story.
She is sworn to secrecy about what the consorts actually asked her, lest they would never speak to her again, therefore, the only thing known about her MMI is that she thought she spoke well.
Then she waited.
Oh dear that wait was so long. She'd mistake random letters as those of her fairy godmothers. Often she'd ask the mailman, Mr Gmail to check his trash just in case one accidentally landed in there. No signs of anything.
You'd think this is some fairy tale about how she met her prince.
It's not.
The day of the state ball, January 14, she was up all night. Her heart was racing too fast to allow slumber. She hugged her pillow, sunken with fear. Did the consorts like her? Was she too dull? Perhaps too chatty? Could they have known she wore odd socks? That she liked pineapple on pizza?
She waited for a night that seemed to never end.
Then came a letter. It was from lady VTAC.
The prince had not sent any further correspondence.
The letter was from Mr Radiography.
Confusion.
Tears.
Mr Radiography was a fine young man that lived in Monash Palace too. He wasn't as bonny or rich a lad as Medicine, nor was his personality as compatible with hers as was Medicine's. But he seemed to like her and wanted to give her a chance.
The peasant girl cried. She waited and waited for other godmothers to bear news, but there were only regrets and unfortunatelys. There were only medstudentonline girls flirting with their princes, posting boastful or proud instances of a little kiss stolen here, a peck given there.
Jealousy.
More tears.
But she didn't decline Radiography's order either. She had previously considered being a priestess, but it would bear her no children.
And Radiography wasn't so bad after all. His face was a little lopsided, but when he smiled, it pleased her eyes. He spoke of machines and physics and anatomy, things she was interested in, and things she didn't know she could love. His skin smelled like a hospital, as did Prince Medicine's, just that there were undertones of metallic machines in the smell.
When she held his hand the first time, in the Monash's reading library, she didn't seem to mind too much. Her interests still aligned with his. She read a book about him, and you know what? He was more charming than she could imagine.
And they dont know if they lived happily ever after. How this story will end is something she hasn't decided yet. But for now, she'll commit to radiography and see if the love she nurtures will bear any new fruit.
I don't know if I'll write a uni journal, but I just want to say thank you to everyone that's read this and encouraged me to write more. I've made so many friends here, and this has been my place of comfort and source of inspiration on so many occasions. Thank you so much for facilitating this and supporting me through my VCE journey. I will forever be indebted to everyone who has helped me, and this journal will be a core memory of my educational career.
Good luck to everyone!
Penelope:)