Heartstrings

I looked down at the screen, my brain hammering my skull, small numbers glowing 1:30 AM. 

Finish homework. Pack lunch. Sleep. I promised myself, knowing full well my night life is never that predictable. The time when I would actually complete all that was uncertain— especially considering how long it would take me to decide on which assignments I’d complete and which I’d sacrifice.  

A buzz snapped my head back up, but my empty eyes swept past the text and towards my desk. Stacks on stacks of paper—some useless, some horribly important—all bunched together with a handful of textbooks and pens stuffed between them, soaking in the dust of my procrastination. Some were due tomorrow, others the day after, and I had already begun preparing very made-up excuses. 

I was practically in survival mode. 

Typing a reply after barely skimming the text; my fingers brushed the screen as an automatic response: 

‘No sorry I’m busy’. 

My thumb hovered just above the send button, until the username caught my eye, Ava Chen. 

My brain quickly scraped up an image: year 13, laughingly ungifted in height, who somehow snaked her way up my very close friends category within a year through shared struggles and issues. 

I read her text properly this time. 

‘Heyyy, we’re going to head out for the shared dinner tmrw, you comin right??’. 

My heart winced, thinking back to the colourful memories of spilled drinks, bright laughs and ‘very intelligent’ conversations. 

I couldn’t go. I knew it. 

My body was still pushing me towards my bed. Fear pushed me in the opposite direction—towards my stacks of untouched work. 

But my heart pulled me towards the chance to make another life-long memory. 

I knew I shouldn’t accept, yet my thumb still froze. Heartstrings dragged it away from the send button like a puppet master. A silent war raged inside of me. I could hear the seconds ticking by, one by one—reminding me that no matter my hesitance, mere heartstrings won’t pull time to a stop. 

It was a sudden BANG that took me out of my trance. My head snapped back as last year’s yearbook fell with a thud. Hauling my body off the chair, I staggered towards the fallen book crouching on to the ground intending to put it back. Maybe it was my half-awake mind, or the desperate need for a distraction— but instead of putting it back, I picked up the book and mindlessly flicked through the pages. 

 Photos of filled laughter and frozen memories seemed to capture the joy of strangers into a timeless image. Friends, groups, performances—every page was overflowing with satisfaction and happiness.

I couldn’t help but compare these to the photos in my own gallery and the memories tucked away in my heart, knowing this may be the last time I ever see these friends again. 

My heartstrings pulled me to put the book back. 

My phone still sat there, screen dimming, patiently waiting for an answer. 

So in the end, I pressed send. 

‘Duh, and don’t be late this time’.

Writer – Stephanie Lin
Editor – Jessica Dai
Artist – Sophia Pu

–June 2025–