Pressure.

I stared at the keypad, trying to remember the correct code that had been drummed into me over and over again. “Twist the dial, type ‘2-0’, flick the sw— no wait,” what was it?

I felt the pressure. The pressure from my peers and everybody around me, dependent on my next move. But more importantly, the pressure from myself. I had to do it. I had a lot of energy at my care, but how was I going to control it? What was that code? I knew that one wrong step would deplete my chances, and a careless action would make the whole contents in that small box, which held no prisoners, explode and burn to a crisp. What a waste that would be.

C’mon! Think! I could drive a tank, operate a gun, navigate across the harsh Afghanistan desert, yet when my comrades needed me most; my mind had hit a wall. “Twist the dial, type ‘2-0’, flick the sw—“

‘YOU JUST TRIED THAT!’ one of my companions yelled, the stress and panic leaking out of his voice like water from a tap. ‘We haven’t got much time left’. In immense dread, I touched one of the buttons and, unbeknown to me, it bleeped and the whole box sprang into action, leaping and whirring as it eventually lit up. My last sense to realise what had happened was my touch. But I soon felt the immense heat radiating through my bones, like a wave of water drenching a sandy beach, seeping into every nook and cranny available and making me aware of it, as if it was just tapping me on the shoulder. Everybody around my flinched in anticipation as a harsh countdown started and I knew this was it.

10, 9, 8—“EVERYBODY GET READY”, 7, 6, 5, 4, —“IT’S GONNA EXPLODE!”, 3, 2, 1

*ping*

The popcorn was ready

Does anyone actually know the words to Auld Lang Syne?!

People always point out that ‘New Year’s Eve is always underwhelming’, making out like they are saying some kind of shocking, controversial opinion. Whoever they are telling then proceeds to agree, thinking it is the spookiest coincidence in the world.

Haven’t people yet noticed that New Year’s Eve is, in fact, nothing at all but an excuse for a good party? I mean what are they expecting? The clock strikes midnight and all over the world calendars leaping in the air off their own accord and transforming into pages plastered in the new date? Historical figures rising from the dead to welcome in the new year? Our true love actually arriving at the party and giving us seven swimming swans? The reality is that, when the clocks strikes 12, and our countdown reaches its climax, it’s over. Christmas is over for another year and we are just left standing, staring at our phones and watches to check that the date has changed. "New Year’s Eve doesn’t interest me really, I’m more of a Christmas type of person" says everyone. Who are these people who prefer December 31^st to the 25^th (and do they know it’s Christmas time??) Everybody has an idea in their mind that they are missing some kind of New Year’s Eve twist; that they are on their own in thinking that night is over-rated but do you know what I think? I think Christmas is gone, another year is over (a new one just begun) and we just want a good old moan at anything we can set our sights on. The clocks strike 12, the crowd disbands, we go to bed and wake up grouchy the next morning. That's all that's gonna happen. Deal with it.

Do you agree with me? Post your NYE views below!