My Almamater, My Training Ground

It was a hot afternoon, most students were in the dining hall. The SS3 students could be seen milling around in crazy dress styles. Some all packed and waiting for their rides, some had left and the rest packed, carried or said their final goodbyes to their juniors, teachers and friends. Some flew their shirts, some unbuttoned theirs, some had long pulled off their ties looking like ruffians and like every year, the teachers would turn their eyes away pretending to be blind. Yes, on a day like this every year a batch of SS3s' would say goodbye to this institute where they had spent 6 years of their lives. Looking at this young adults, each filled with the joy and sadness of leaving a place they've come to view as home.Bliss, sat on her bed, her hands dexterously folding up her cloths, she, like most of her mates, had given out most of her belongings to her juniors. Her uniforms, daywears, sports outfits and a few other articles of clothing had all been