The Finals Zombies
The stress inducing two weeks of finals have arrived. From freshman to senior, all exhibit the telltale signs that a dastardly sickness has reared its ugly head once more. Hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes of the studious confer an eerie aura to the campus. The administration is trying to pass this off as normal health decline, like the flu or a stomach bug, but we know the truth. We are witnessing the zombification of an entire student body. At the start of the semester, students arrive on campus with a sparkle in their eyes and hope in their hearts. Zombification isn’t a factor in these early days as these innocent ones play video games and gather in the common areas. The first sign of the transformation happens around midterm as students begin pulling all-nighters to finish research papers and study for tests. Their eyes glaze and they shuffle from class to class as if haunted. “Our professors didn’t prepare us for this,” said Riley Parker, a third year sophomore. “All they did was give us syllabi that outlined the entire course’s due dates. They tell us to read the whole thing. Who does that?” Students like Riley are expected to exercise responsibilities that they have never faced before. For these unlucky collegians, the struggle is indeed real. The second stage of student zombification severely diminishes the central nervous system. First is the loss of communication, leaving the infected able to reply only in grunts and unintelligible muttering as their faces are stuffed into books. Then comes the loss of motor skills. Students, who started the semester with brisk runs across the lush green quad now shuffle awkwardly across campus, dragging their legs and feet behind them loaded down with study materials. The final stage of the student’s devolution into a ghoul state starts the week before finals begin. Their hands begin to curl into claw like shapes as they type frantically and their backs curve under the weight of required textbooks. Not every student has been affected in the same way. Some thrive in high stakes, pressure filled environments. Others require a little outside help. “I wouldn’t get through this week without my dark brewed savior,” said freshman transfer student Nick Trainor. “My eyes don’t even open until after the first cup.” This drink, more commonly referred to as ‘coffee,’ has become the salvation of students trying to stay awake in classes. While some students found ways to cope and stockpile rations for the oncoming apocalypse, many have not. There is no student more vulnerable than the one who thought they possessed the one thing college students simply don’t have: more time. “I stayed up playing League of Legends,” said Chad Max, an undeclared senior. “That’s why I couldn’t study until an hour before my test the next day. It’s not my fault that I had to pull an all-nighter during a championship event.”
As the close of the semester draws near, Columbus State University will be swarming with a zombified student body. Speculation from various sources abounds as to the best way to avoid becoming a creature out of a B-rated film, but prevention seems to be key. Experts suggest students can study in advance of tests, get a full night’s sleep, and complete essays more than a day in advance. But it may be too late. The end is upon us.
