About one or two years ago I watched, one by one, as my senior friends were tragically consumed. They were different… somehow. The air about them shifted and they stopped showing up to classes. Their grades fell and attendance plummeted. No one said a word, yet everyone knew. Those seniors didn’t even seem to care. Soon, an ominous and clear answer seemingly hung in the air like death itself: senioritis.  

Southern New Hampshire University defines the symptoms of senioritis as “a drop in grades, not completing assignments, procrastination and loss of interest in studies.” They also add, “You might even start skipping class or turning in work that is subpar.” This description is extremely accurate to the symptoms that I’ve witnessed. The most unsettling thing about this unknown force is that those seemingly infected know they have it… and don’t even care. Yet more horrifying, is that there seems to only one known cure, which classmate Violet summed up as “Graduating.” Seniors just need to hang on, dig deep, and wait it out until the end of the year. 

But then, before I knew it, I found myself in my senior year. Before, I was a decent student: I went to class every day I could, even doing all or most of my work. I started off the year strong, especially with the threat of college applications looming in the distance like great big mountains, ragged and sharp. It filled one with fear and dread, yet at the same time one felt excited, ready to adventure out into the college world.  

Once applications came and went, and the acceptance came through, it was over. I had done it; I had gotten into college. Yet, I felt a whisper from the deepest abyss in the cosmos, and it was calling my name. It started small, with just a sudden lack motivation. A missed assignment here and there. Soon enough, two turned to four, five to ten. I even began to do things I had never dreamed of doing before, like skipping class. I would sleep in past my alarm, and not getting up, I would just let it ring out like a church bell marking the death of my motivation. I received warnings from my parents, but I continued to fall deeper into the abysmal terror of senioritis, and I couldn’t climb out.  I’m being consumed by my own laziness, yet I knew the warning signs, the symptoms, because I had seen its victims. I fear it will take me completely, and I pray it will be over soon. I only have a few more months… a few more months until it’s all over, and I can go out and climb the mountain that is college.