When Dream Meets Duty

Chapter 2: You Always Win

Sarah's Pov

I was woken by the sound of my roommate's alarm clock. My tiny bed was filled with some open textbooks, a reminder that my final year exams in the School of Journalism were just a week away, and I still had a mountain of notes to review and articles to finish.

I sat up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and reached forth to silence the alarm.

A notification flashed on my iphone screen, making the phone beep. I checked and saw a reminder that I had an 8 o'clock class staring me down and it was almost 7:10am.

The professor coming in for lecture this morning is a strict old man. I wouldn't want to be penalised for latecomers.

I mustered the little energy I had and dragged myself to the tiny bathroom. I glanced at the dirty laundry clothes in the basket near the bathroom door, I sighed.

As I stood before the mirror, a tired reflection stared back, I saw dark circles under my eyes, tangled hair, and a pale complexion.But I looked deeper, and my inner strength shone through.

I saw a resilient journalist-in-the-making, and my heart swelled with pride. 'I am beautiful, bold, and brilliant,' I declared, my eyes locking onto the awards that adorned my wall.

After I took my shower, I removed a well iron corporate wear from the wardrobe I shared with my roommate. I wore my clothes, combed my hair, and applied my light makeup. I was good to go.

While packing my books I saw a pink sticky note on my favourite journals. “You always win,” it read, in my roommate's familiar writeup.

She's a sweet soul. I've stayed with my roommate for two years and we never had problems.

Literally she's the best person ever and she knows how to make me smile. She wrote it like she was cheering me on.

This is lovely, I whispered to myself. For a moment I felt the weight of the world get lighter.

I folded the paper into my wallet, parked all I needed for today's class and hurried to school.

The campus is bustling with students going in for their lectures as I walked in through the doors of the journalism school, the hum of activity enveloped me.

Students were really busy with activities, some lugging cameras and microphones creating contents, while others huddled around laptops, typing away furiously.

In the lobby, a group of students sat clustered around a large screen, while the intelligent student amongst them was visual storytelling, directly telling them on how to edit video footage for their latest project.

I hurried to my lecture hall, It was almost filled up with students. I chatted with some friends for ten minutes before the professor walked in. The noise reduced instantly and the student focused on the old processor.

“Good day students, today we will focus on the topic, investigative journalism. As a final year journalism student, this is a familiar topic we come across everyday. So who's willing to enumerate what investigative journalism means?” Nobody? alright. Sarah Rick answer the question” he voiced

I stood up and looked around, scanning the room and taking a deep breathe before answering the questions asked. I answered correctly, then i sat down, beaming from ear to ear like a peacock spreading its vibrant tail feather.

“Well done Sarah Rick. You answered the question well”. He voiced.

I jotted down some relevant points he said in class. The school bell rings and that was a notice that class was over.

Walking down the lobby, I checked my phone and it was on silent mode, oh that's why I didn't hear any message beep or phone rings. I recalled putting it on silent mode last night to enable me to read. It irritates me when I hear frequent buzzing from the notifications.

Oh wow! I'm shocked by the number of times my dad has called my phone. Seven missed calls!

“What? I hope all is well with him… he never called more than twice, what could have happened?” A wave of confusion washed over me, followed by a growing sense of concern as I spoke aloud.

I decided to leave the department of journalism premises, so I could have a comfortable conversation with him. Without the feeling that someone was eavesdropping.

In my department, the need for privacy cannot be over-emphasised because gist lovers are always thirty for any scoop of gist that is not of their business.

In forty minutes I reached my dorm and opened the locks. Thank God my roommate isn't back yet, at least I get some privacy with my dad. I got into my room, locked the door and hurriedly called him.

The phone rang on the other end…

“Hello dad” Good day, how are you doing? I said with curiosity

“Hello ,my daughter, I'm good” I was worried when you didn't pick my calls, my dad stated.

“Sorry daddy, my phone was on silent mode so I didn't hear it ring all this while and also you know I am preparing for my upcoming exams.” I stated.

“Dad you know i prioritize my book a little more than my phone. I'm sorry” I whispered.

“It's okay”, “How are school studies?” he said.

“Dad , the journalism department is not for the weak, a lot of tasks, practical training and storytelling skills to be done”. I voiced

“Oh dear, your daddy has an idea of all you're saying and I'm super proud of you, take things one step at a time so you pull through without much stress.” he sighed wearily, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“Dad, your voice sounds really low. What is the problem?” I cut into his words.

“The company is in Jeopardy. Sarah,I need you to come back home, it's of crucial importance that we see and talk directly, this is the reason i called so many times.” His voice was firm and frosty.

I reluctantly agreed to meet him tomorrow. He didn't even allow me to ask him questions and he bid his goodbyes and ended the call.

Maybe he didn't want to bother me much,but little did I know this meeting would alter the trajectory of my carefully planned life forever.