I once read an article about crazy reading. A college student wrote about his life in senior three, and his dream shattered Peking University. Later, he was admitted to China University of Political S

I once read an article about crazy reading. A college student wrote about his life in senior three, and his dream shattered Peking University. Later, he was admitted to China University of Political Science and Law. Senior three sacrifice

Publication date: June 2005 1 1 Source: Reader (Original Edition) No.3, 2005 Author: Unintentional Editing Input: Unintentional Editing.

My senior year passed like this.

Standing on the campus of East China Politics and Law, I am full of green and sunshine. The breath of spring permeates every corner of Shencheng and young faces.

"The college entrance examination has gone away from me," I said to myself, but I remembered my life that was still alive under heavy pressure and my beautiful smiling face.

It is the acme of life, which makes people cry.

The smoke of the 2003 college entrance examination has not yet dispersed. In July 13, our senior year began.

All the senior three students have moved to the branch school on the edge of the city, which is remote and desolate. The intention of the school speaks for itself.

There are slogans and slogans everywhere. The third year general mobilization meeting is over, and the lectures of teachers in all subjects are over. The classroom is no longer full of vitality, and the childish face is full of heaviness and coldness.

I don't know who casually wrote "330" on the back blackboard, which is small but clear. No one paid attention to the three figures, but they all knew that it was a sword hanging over our heads, shining with cold light.

On the evening self-study on the second day of school, the head teacher called the top ten students in the class together and said very seriously, "From today on, you should be clear about your task-attacking famous schools!" In the dim light of the corridor, everyone stood silently, biting their lips. I slowly raised my head, looked directly into the eyes of the class teacher, and gently spit out two words: "I see!" " "

I posted "Influence on Peking University" everywhere, including desks, bedside and walls ... The emblem of Peking University was lying quietly in a pencil box, looking at it every day, silently thinking about a map of Baota Lake, the lion in the west gate of Peking University.

The number of people with dark circles is increasing slowly, and there is always a strong coffee smell in the classroom. The books on the desk are piled higher and higher, and even the aisles are full of paper.

No one cursed the hot weather, and no one complained about the mountains of books and exercises. Our third year of high school, so quietly opened the curtain.

In front of me stood the head teacher, "Yin Haozhe, your dream of Peking University is coming true!" "I looked up and smiled. The sunshine in August shines warmly into the office. I seem to hear a call from afar.

I made a form for myself, at the top of which I wrote the ideal scores of all subjects in the college entrance examination. The dense spaces below are waiting for this year's exam results. A detailed annual plan is posted on the wall.

I finished my senior three course like a war and soon entered the first round of review.

This is my weakness.

Still flying at normal speed. The brand-new textbook for senior one makes me regret it. Because of the fun of freshman year, freshman year is almost blank. The efforts of the second year of high school made me rank among the top ten in my grade, but the shortcomings of the first year of high school could not make up for it. Students are familiar with it, but I have to start from the beginning, starting with the most basic theorem. I started to stay up late, making up freshman vocabulary, foreign politics, history and geography. The textbook was quickly painted beyond recognition by me. The body is getting thinner and thinner, and the grades are rising steadily, but mathematics is still hovering above and below the passing line. The disappointment of repeated tests made me ask more than once-what should I do? !

Review progress is getting faster and faster. After class, teachers are always surrounded and students can discuss problems with each other everywhere.

It is autumn here. No one stood by the window and looked sad at the fallen leaves, and no one went for an autumn outing. We are already cold and warm.

Exams followed, and rounds of bombing. Paper falling like snowflakes almost buried these young bodies. Numerous reference books have been smashed, such as Intensive Practice and Huanggang Secret Book. ...

The blackboard is always full of answers to multiple-choice questions, A, B, C, D. The heads buried in various papers are raised and lowered, mumbling and making a red cross on the test paper.

Teachers of various subjects have also started the "infighting" of self-study classes. Finally, all the self-study was divided. The evening self-study was extended to half past ten.

There is a big exam every week. Accurately calculate time, do problems, score and rank. Cycle after cycle.

No complaints, no groans, we silently endure, and tolerate all this with calmness that should not be present at this age.

But I was horrified to find that every time I took the exam, math dragged my total score down. Peking University ... Peking University ... I keep repeating it. Without the support of high scores in mathematics, I can miss Peking University! I spend all my spare time trying to make up for math loopholes, and even secretly solve math problems in politics and history classes. I don't know how many late nights, when the whole day's task was erased by red strokes, I stood at the window, slightly moving my sore neck and arms, gently calling a name to the north-Peking University, and my childish voice rang in my ears-I couldn't help going to Peking University!

My heart and dreams support the daily overload of study and pressure, and I am painful and happy.

The head teacher began to bring a class to our mobilization meeting every Monday afternoon. Everyone gawked at the head teacher spitting and glowing on the podium, silently counting how many papers were left to do today, until what time in the morning.

A classic question-what time did you go to bed this morning?

We are both comrades-in-arms and competitors in the trenches. We are not "enemies", but more United, more intimate and more tacit, and cherish the last time together in a unique way.

Occasionally, everyone will be indignant. Being located in Shandong, the score line is the highest. The English teacher said that "crows are as black as crows" let us calm down and throw ourselves back into the sea of books.

Several couples appeared in the class, and everyone looked at them, somewhat disappointed and somewhat helpless.

I'm still making every effort to improve my math scores, but I haven't found that my grades in politics, history, geography, Chinese and English have begun to decline in an all-round way. Mathematics finally barely stabilized above the passing line, and the other five subjects lost 60 points, and the overall ranking dropped rapidly.

Unknown Lake ... Boyata ... Shishi ... Eagle Club ... I suddenly became extremely vulnerable. When I hear any words related to Peking University, my tears will fall.

Why, why do I work hard, but I can't get the reward I deserve? !

Peking University, you, really, have become my lifelong dream?

The short winter vacation passed quickly, and the Spring Festival was very boring.

I soon learned the final grade of the first semester. There are 14 students in the class.

A terrible ranking.

I'm completely devastated. I don't know what will happen if this goes on, but who can tell me what I should do?

That night, I was knocked down by math again. I covered myself in the quilt and cried happily. That night, I made a decision-give up math!

This means giving up Peking University!

I tore up Impact on Peking University and threw it into the wastebasket. I also threw the emblem of Peking University into the drawer. Everything related to mathematics disappeared from my sight. My heart is bleeding-after all, it is a dream of being pregnant for more than ten years!

I neglected my senior year.

I chose to skip class and use math to avoid all the evening self-study. When I got home, my mother didn't say anything, but her eyes couldn't hide the deep anxiety as a mother.

On a cold night, I skipped math evening self-study again and reviewed at home (my parents didn't interfere with my study and went out for a walk). I only heard a knock at the door. When I opened the door, the people standing at the door stunned me-tall and thin figure, unkempt hair, sunken eyes. "Hao Zhe, this is the paper for math self-study tonight. You always don't go, and the loss is too great. " Teacher Mao, who teaches mathematics, leaned against the doorframe, carrying a motorcycle helmet covered with snow in one hand and handed me two questions in the other. His thin face is full of fatigue.

Teacher Mao drove away slowly on the back seat of his motorcycle, and my tears flowed down irrepressibly. I know, it takes an hour to ride a motorcycle from school to my home.

Back to the room, I bit my index finger and wrote three words in blood-continue! Tears wet the white paper drop by drop, and blood and tears slowly blended together, making me unable to open my eyes. I gritted my teeth and said to myself-for the sake of Teacher Mao, you should also study math!

It's only 100 days before the college entrance examination, and all classes have begun to count down, and the preparation for the exam is in a white-hot state. Every day before class and evening self-study, the slogans of the whole high school teaching building are one after another. The head teacher stood on the platform seriously, and we shouted desperately and became hysterical. Opposite is the science experimental class, and their slogan came clearly-we are all Tsinghua Peking University, never give up! I stopped talking and looked at the sunset outside the window, tears fell down.

"Peking University" is like a flying balloon, drifting farther and farther, out of reach. My "Peking University" passed like this.

I fell into a strange circle, just less than 100 days before the college entrance examination. I repeatedly asked myself, why do I want the college entrance examination? What does the college entrance examination mean to me? I pursue the answer like an ascetic. And all this can only be understood when you enter the university.

I'm still trying to do math problems and memorizing politics, history and geography crazily, but I seem to have lost the motivation to move forward. I lost my mind.

I am indulging myself again, giving myself a reason to escape. Finally, one day, President Wu caught me wandering on the playground. At that time, all the students were in the classroom.

He grabbed my shoulder and shouted, "You don't want to live? ! "I stared at the face that was almost twisted with anger but no expression, speechless.

The head teacher took me back from the headmaster and just looked at me without saying anything. Suddenly one foot flew up, two feet, and I fell down. ...

Clear 26 feet, each foot is unforgettable. I have been lying on the ground and can't move.

The class teacher picked me up in love. "Son, you can't go on like this, understand?" The teacher cried.

Walking outside, the class teacher pointed to the dazzling yellow winter jasmine on the branch and said to me slowly, "This is the spring of your life, you should be in full bloom!" " "I looked at the head teacher's hopeful eyes indifferently, and even felt overdrawn. Not because of study, but because of pressure.

Still alive like that, confused, painful but happy.

Until one day, the teacher announced that the second round of review had been completely over, and we would welcome the last mock exam in the city.

The results came out soon. There are 0/7 students in the whole class/kloc, and 500 students in the whole city. Full score 150, I only got more than 80-I haven't reached the passing line, and my comprehensive score in liberal arts, which is my strength, is less than 230 (full score 300). This means that I only want to get two books. If this continues, I won't get two books.

The head teacher has decided to leave me alone. She called me out and said only one thing to me: "Let it die!" "

Back in the classroom, I heavily engraved eight words on the desk-cross the rubicon, one last try!

No one can save me, only myself.

I want to put all my eggs in one basket.

Just one month before the college entrance examination, I just found the feeling of senior three.

Teachers in all subjects looked at me with very "melancholy" eyes, from 28 "fallen" students in the city to more than 500 students, speculating whether I was on the line or off the list in the decisive battle.

I am slowly adjusting myself and trying to forget what happened in senior three. I found out all the high school textbooks, read them from beginning to end, and carefully "swept" all the examples in the math textbooks. I only remember that month now. It was really distracting. I didn't think I could get into the exam, but I just wanted to stick to it myself.

Mom and dad didn't give me any pressure. They know that at this special moment, it is futile to say anything. They just do everything for me silently.

The mentality is becoming more and more peaceful, and the things learned are gradually systematized. The results began to pick up and eventually stabilized in the top three of the class.

After leaving school on June 4, I still insist on studying in the school library every day, just to keep myself in a state of war and not relax.

The night before the college entrance examination, I stood on the empty playground and looked at the watery night sky. I asked myself-how many days later, you can still stand on another campus and look up at the same starry sky?

On June 7, the college entrance examination, the mentality has been extremely peaceful. I wrote in red on the middle finger of my left hand: "I am the best!" " "Red, harsh red! I saw that young and frivolous me again, that stubborn obsession with "Peking University", that scarred child.

Mom and dad didn't speak, just quietly watching me open the car door and slowly walk into the school.

The test paper has been handed out, and it is quiet inside.

Two days of fighting.

When the final whistle blew, I suddenly realized-this is the college entrance examination! My college entrance examination, my senior three and my senior high school are all over! Next, I'm going to college!

The first time I really breathed the sunshine, I shouted and rushed out of the examination room like crazy.

The class teacher waiting at the school gate hugged me tightly. Tears for you "Son, you are here at last!" The dribs and drabs of senior three suddenly flooded into my mind. This year, I had a hard time. I was no longer excited, and tears welled up in my eyes.

On the afternoon of June 8, 2004, by the Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal, the sun was setting and willows were weeping.

Soon, the results were announced. Mathematics 120, liberal arts comprehensive 262, the total score of the class is second.

Then, I solemnly wrote "East China University of Political Science and Law" in the first volunteer column, and devoted all my strength and passion.

Then, I received the admission notice from Hua Zheng.

In July, I went back to school and saw the classroom that carried my dreams and hopes for a year. It's still the familiar blackboard, tables and chairs, books piled on the table-all repeat students. Another group of people are trying to find their dreams. After falling into the water, they jumped ashore and launched another charge on the wooden bridge.

At the summer reunion, the monitor took out the tape recorder and pressed it gently. At that time, the slogan we shouted was deafening, and then the band Zero believed in itself. No one mentioned the college entrance examination again, but everyone's face was covered with tears, thinking about the days we passed together.

My Peking University, my unnamed lake, Boyata, Shishi Eagle Club ... will remain in my heart forever.

Senior three has passed, and the dream still exists. ...