[ IP ] I 'm Done As Promised < 3 Mom [ possible NSFW ]

Stars speckled over the April evening, the moon glaring down as the student made his way downtown from the library. The sidewalk stretched down to the town center like a ramp. An all-access pathway that denied no one from the shops, bars and late-night pitas that were four more blocks away. His steps should have been confident as he blazed his trail towards the store. This Saturday night, he did good. Yesterday, the first round of exams were done. Spring semester was half-way done, and he was making it. The grade point average *will* go up one way or another, he promised himself in March. He spent most of the day in the library, getting another project out of the way so he could pick up that extra shift on Sunday. 
 A month later, and it was looking good. Really good. So the student planned to end the week on a high note, and get himself a pita. 
 However, shoes landed on the pavement heavier than they should. The messenger bag sunk down on his shoulder. It was empty. He found it hard to breathe. The sidewalk was all-access, was n't it? What was so hard about going downtown to get a pita? The student was fine going a few extra days on ramen, it was more important that he *honor* the week's trials. The long nights. They had to be worth something. 
 Just another year after this semester was done, like he promised. He would get his degree. There would be GPA high enough to look at grad school. Scholarship applications would start going out towards the end of the month. Macy's was giving him more shifts now. There was a lot he was getting done, and even more that needed his attention, but as long as he went to classes, kept his budget low, and managed the hour-long walk from downtown after he got his pita, as good as a cab sounded, then he would be *making it. * 
 This sidewalk was all-access. It curved downhill and made walking easier. Anyone could handle it. The student struggled under a colossal weight. This was living, the student assured himself. Anyone can handle it. I *must* handle it, because I made a promise -- - 
 He dug a hand into a mesh-net on the side of his messenger bag, the kind that was meant to hold drinks but held old receipts, gum wrappers and the chalk he was looking for. Fingers gripped it awkwardly. He looked around. The sidewalk was empty. There was n't much time. The student's knees collided with the pavement. They thudded hard, and the young man yelped, but he clacked the chalk into this street and etched the words down; 
 
 *I'm Done as promised < 3 Mom* 
 
 The student sighed. He was not done yet. But he promised. For as long as he made his wages last through the next year and a half, and kept his GPA as high as he could, the student would not give up. This was a public university after all. Anyone from the state could have gotten in. So anyone could finish it, he thought. Staying was the hard part now. Managing was harder. Finding time to study was -- - 
 He thrust himself upwards, and read the words again. They felt real, etched into the sidewalk. Chalk curved and flourished into the pavement, promising that tonight, the powder would stick. Because it looked to nice to erase, written like that. Too important to get rid of. 
 The night was getting cooler. After checking the time, the student could make it home by 2am at his current pace. 2:30am if he still decided to get that pita. The student did good after all. He deserved it, especially after doing well at the exam and putting his Saturday towards studying. 
 He turned around, and made his way home up the sidewalk, up the all-access pathway that made it easy for anyone to head downtown. Anyone at all, with city lights, car horns and Saturday night laughs echoing from the town center to lure him in. Tonight though, the student went home, thinking of the words he would tell his mother at his graduation ceremony. 
 As he thought of wearing the robe and getting his diploma, his steps were lighter. Not because his struggle was any less, or because he found a new way to budget his wages for the next two weeks, but because he forgot about his burdens, and saw an old woman in the gymnasium stands a year from now cheering his name. 
 And his mother would not raise a liar.
