copied and paste from a friend

>I was only 18 years old
>I loved Year 12 so much, I had all the checkpoints and tutors.
>I pray to VCAA every night before bed, thanking him for the As I've been given
>"ATAR is love" I say; "ATAR is life"
>My sister hears me and calls me a nerd
>I know she was just jealous of my devotion for school
>I called her a dropkick
>She slaps me and sends me to go to sleep
>I'm crying now, and my face hurts
>I lay in bed and it's really cold
>Suddenly, a warmth is moving towards me
>It's the chief assessor
>I am so happy
>He whispers into my ear "This is my study score."
>He grabs me with his powerful hands and puts me down onto a tiny examination table
>I'm ready
>I open my exam paper for the chief assessor
>He penetrates my conscience
>It hurts so much but I do it for the ATAR
>I can feel my brain tearing as my eyes start to water
>I push against his exam paper
>I want to please chief assessor
>He roars with a mighty stroke of his pen as he fills my page with red ink
>My sister walks in
>The chief assessor looks her straight in the eyes and says "Stop writing, pens down"
>He leaves through my window
>ATAR is love. ATAR is life.