You respond with “sorry grandma but I’m running late for school so you’re on your own” as you sprint past.

You’re nearly there, you’re going to make it. All the stress, all the worrying, has taken a toll on your nerves but, in that instantaneous moment you envisage your future where you make it to Wellbeing on time, sit your test Period 1, smash it, get an A+ which leads on to an ATAR of 99.95, then a long and distinguished career, followed by a successful run for federal parliament which culminates with you becoming Prime Minister in 2045.

When, suddenly, out of nowhere, something hits you from behind. You trip, stumble and eventually fall. In an act of pure revenge, the little old lady has rammed you with her shopping cart. You hit the deck. Hard.

What happens next is all a blur but, when you wake up in the hospital 6 hours later, you recall flashing lights, an ambulance, and a crowd of people milling around you outside of school while a little old lady laughs hysterically in the background.

You’ve sustained a concussion, have missed Wellbeing and your test in Period 1 and failed the subject. But you’re alive. And that’s the main thing. That and the fact you’re in hospital receiving the medical care you need.

But when the doctor walks in she has an angry look on her face and is carrying a giant needle. You start sweating with worry, what’s going on here? You go to get up from the bed when you realise your legs and arms are in restraints. You can’t move.

The doctor starts laughing. You’ve never seen her before but you know that laugh. It’s familiar but blurry. The doctor slowly approaches you and plunges the needle into your arm when it dawns on you where you’ve heard that laugh before. As you begin to feel groggy the doctor leans into your ear and she whispers, “maybe next time you’ll help my mother cross the road”.

GAME OVER