Twelve.

The last year.

The last sight of a piece of the big puzzle.

The last reminder that nothing lasts forever.

The last euphoria of finding your classmates.

The last tears you shed when your heart is broken.

The last chance to make it right, proof them wrong, and start all over again.

Twelve seems so small, yet so big.

It's like a tree and its roots is diving for depth in your body.

It's like a song and and the words got stuck in your brain.

Each memories are tattooed black in your cerebellum,

running down freely all over the strands of your long hair,

tickling down softly on the peaks of your vertebrae.

Two down, seven to go.

Our steps are marked and the future is waiting.

And for each night, the day unfolds.

And for each folds, a dream ends.

And for an end, I wish the reality to follow,

giving you a soft tap on your shoulder and whispers

"congratulations, your dreams came true."