10 the election

I finally do end up using the pipe to get out.

True, it wasn't the safest of options, but this is what desperation makes people do. [people meaning me] The pipe ended up breaking at some point, but I managed to land on the ground safely. Thankfully the pipe isn't being used, connected to a bathroom that Mother had removed upon moving to this place.

I sprint to school, disregarding what I'd do to get back to my room. The pipe can wait.

I've got some badass speech giving to do.

I reach school, earlier than usual. Due to the amount of running I have done lately, I don't even feel tired. Instead I felt surprisingly energized. I hurry to the washroom, ensuring that I look presentable. I need to do this for myself. I'm done letting people walk all over me, especially for the most dumbest reasons.

I walk out the washroom, looking and feeling amazing. I sashay out, all confidence, when I bump into someone. Who was happening to carry some coffee. Needless to say, it spilled all over my t-shirt. I look up at them, opening my mouth to curse the shit out of them.

My eyes meet the cold, hard glare of Valentine. He looks at me up and down, and begins walking away from me.

All men have is the audacity.

I follow him, and grab the collar of his button down, saying, "Valentine, you just spilled your coffee on me and you can't even bother to apologize?", triggered by his rudeness.

"Why should I apologize because you're a blind bat?", he says, turning back. He shakes my hand off and continues walking.

"Oh you little-", I say, and follow him.

"You, kind sir, are going to get me a change of clothes. Now.", I say mockingly, grabbing a hold of his muscular arm.

"Or what, Whitaker? You'll bite me?" he says, obviously making fun of me.

"Yes, I will. I need a change of clothes now, Elijah, quit playing around.", I say, genuinely pissed off.

"What do you want me to do? Go shopping right now? Get a life, Whitaker.", he says, looking at me like I'm crazy.

"I. Need. New. Clothes. Now. I have a speech in five, Valentine.", I say, angrily.

"So do I. I didn't bump into someone with coffee, did I?" he says.

"I am sorry that you're such a dick, but I need a change of clothes, now.", I say, anger dotting my vision.

"Check my locker, Whitaker. 1609.", he says, without turning back. "I'm doing this out of pity, not compassion.", he adds.

"Thank you.", I add sarcastically.

I walk to his locker, and put in the combination. The door gives away under my fingers, and the terrible stink of sweaty clothes fill my nostrils. I grab my nose, the smell making me nauseous. He expects me to wear one of these clothes? Is he actually serious?

I slam the locker, gaining some looks from the other students. Valentine isn't going to help. I need to help myself. I go to the washroom, and remove my t-shirt. I stand there, half naked in my bra, and begin scrubbing at the coffee stain. I turn on the tap, soaking the fabric in cold water, and begin rubbing furiously at the stains with soap. I pray that it comes off. Even if it does, it's soaking wet. There's no way that I can wear it, that too on stage.

I scrub at it, and thankfully it comes off. Not completely, but you'd have to particularly look for the stain to actually find it. I sigh. Now how do I dry it? Sunshine it is. I put it on, thanking that the t-shirt isn't white. I walk out the school, onto the yard, brushing off the looks that I seem to have a knack at getting these days.

I stand under direct sunshine, going over my speech. Why not be productive while waiting for my t-shirt to dry? I pace the yard, glancing at my watch every so often. A few minutes pass, the feeble sun not doing much to dry my clothes. I give up, and walk back in, worried if I'll miss my turn. I rush to the auditorium, my shoes slapping the ground rhythmically.

I huff as I reach the back stage, thankful that I didn't waste more time drying my shirt. My turn is next, and my shirt didn't feel wet anymore, just cold. I am sure it didn't look obvious. I quickly go over my speech, anxiety travelling down my spine, causing me to shiver. My hands felt like ice, cold and lacking circulation.

I look at the person before me, giving a splendid speech, confidence oozing out their every word. I could almost feel the entire hall hanging on to every word, attention completely on them. Nervousness and jealousy form at the pit of my stomach, I swallow hard, trying to wet my throat.

"Hey, Lena.", I hear a voice from behind me. I look around to find Valentine standing behind me, his hand holding a faded t-shirt.

"I don't need it now, Elijah.", I say, going back to rehearsing my speech.

"No, I insist.", he says, his warm eyes meeting mine.

I nod firmly, my mouth forming a thin line, feeling awkward for taking his help. I notice sweat patches on his clothes and before I could ask what happened, the coordinator calls my name out sharply. I gulp and walk onto stage, my legs wobbly from nerves.

The previous participant hands me her mic, and I take it, palms wet. I stumble onto the stage, my mind suddenly blank. Not a single word from hours and hours of my practice got retained by my brain. I stand there awkwardly, and test the mic, wondering what I can do in this very embarrassing situation.

I cough, not knowing what I am going to do. I have a lot to lose here, not just my reputation. If I don't get through this, AND win, all this would go for waste. People begin getting agitated, murmuring filling the audience. My anxiety further worsens, and I feel the terrible urge to puke.

I look at the audience, their disappointed looks allowing bile to raise up to my mouth. I almost do puke, when I hear a whisper.

"You can do it.", Elijah says, and the coordinator nods beside him, giving me a thumbs up.

I gulp, and I begin talking, to ease both my nausea and embarrassment.

"Good morning fellow students, and respected teachers. I am Lena Whitaker, as most of you guys already know. I am standing for today's election, not because I think I deserve the position, but because I need the position.", I say, pausing to take a breath, voice still slightly shaky from nerves.

"I have gone through so much shit, excuse my language, in the past few days, that I had not even been able to figure out what I really wanted to say, here, on this stage. My best friend and parents went missing, lacking zero evidence to even try and report it to the police. They returned home, bruised and broken. It broke my heart to know that they went through all that for me.", I say, pausing to glance at the audience.

I see some confused faces, while others nod, interested in what I'm saying. Gaining more confidence I continue, "You might assume, how that's related to all of you, and why I am standing here, for this election today. My justice is based on how you guys decide to help me. Remember our annual fundraiser that the committee holds? I propose the idea that we have a murder mystery themed function, one where both the school and I get our well deserved help.", I look around at the reactions to my suggestion.

Upon seeing a majority of impressed faces, some nodding encouragingly, I continue, "This might be really unconventional and unprofessional for me, as a candidate to say, that I am standing for the election for my own personal gain. Put on my shoes for a few minutes, and think about how I could try appealing to such a large crowd, to people who didn't even know that I was standing for this election. I need your help.", I say, emotion filling my voice at the end.

"I promise that I am a great leader, one whom every student from this school can rely upon for advice. However, I'm not better than most of you. I personally believe that there are better leaders sitting right here, amongst the audience right now. Despite me not meeting every criteria for a typical Council President, I beg for you guys to vote for me. Hypocritical? Maybe. But I genuinely need your help, and to get that, I need to win this election.", I say, my emotion taking over my speech, the decibels of my voice increasing gradually.

I spot some faces reflecting the emotion I'm feeling. I smile softly, and conclude my speech by saying, "I need your votes, fellow students. Vote for justice."

Applause fills the air, the loudest I've heard in my entire life. Evidently I am not so bad at giving speeches. After all, I have Mother's blood in me. I walk of the stage, proud of myself. I need to thank the coordinator, and my favorite person, [note the sarcasm] Mr. Valentine himself. I mean he wasn't that bad today. He got me a clean t-shirt, knowing how uncomfortable I felt. That was nice of him.

Still does not excuse his attitude though.

I sigh, and decide, if I had managed to sneak out, why not stay out longer. I am surely going to get into trouble, given that the pipe had broken. So why not have my fun while I'm at it?

I settle down in the last row in the audience, and begin waiting patiently for the voting to begin.

******************************

Mother ends up coming to school.

Not to pick me up, hug me and shower me with affection for standing for the election like a regular mom would do. She came to drag me out from the hall, in front of all the student population AND my teachers. Surely this wouldn't have been embarrassing, right?

Well yeah it shouldn't have been. But it was.

Oh so terribly.

After every contestant had finished their speech, they gave us an hour's break for the students to cast their votes. The hour goes by uneventfully, making small talk with some of my friends. However, after the hour finishes, the call upon all the contestants onto the stage, wishing to do a public reveal about the votes that they had received.

We all walk onto the stage, the audience slowly settling back into their seats. Mumbling fills the air, as people ask their neighbors who voted for whom. As the discussions keep taking place, our principle walks onto the stage, standing at a whooping 6 ft.

She walks onto stage, her voice booming as she yells at the student population to stop murmuring amongst themselves. She launches into an introductory speech, talking about all the different achievements of the Council, and how a spot in it guarantees a spot in some of the most reputed universities.

I wait for her to finish her spiel, my eyes roaming across the crowd. That's when I notice Mother's angry face staring at me, from one of the seats in the back. I look at her confused, and terrified at what she'd say and do as my punishment. Her bruises carefully hidden by makeup, she looked pale and terrifying, her eyes glaring at me from that distance.

I begin trembling on stage, not visible from the crowd. The person standing beside me, gives me a weird look. My cheeks flush, embarrassed and terrified at Mother's reaction to this entire thing. She already disapproved me contesting the election. What would she say when she knew that I had snuck out to do so? And what would I tell her if I do manage to win? Anxiousness, who has become my new best friend lately, greets me again.

The principal finishes with her speech, finally getting to the point. She informs us that she'll be reading off the minimum voted person to the maximum voted, the winner being announced at the end. She also mentions that the top five students will consist of the Council, this years shortlisted students being shorter than usual. I cross my fingers behind my back, praying that my mediocre [terrible] marketing skills pays off.

She reads off of the list, names upon names, numbers upon numbers. A boy tears up upon not winning, and rushes off the stage, embarrassed and red. Anxiety twists my gut, the urge to puke resurfacing. I stand still, legs feeling like jelly. There are five more students on stage. Elijah is also amongst them. I sigh. Even if he doesn't win, he'd definitely be apart of the Council. Definitely not something I want.

But on the bright side, I made it this far, with almost no preparation. Thank you universe, you might not be so bad after all.

The principal congratulates the Council members, and mentions that whoever participated today, did a wonderful job. A mediocre attempt at consoling those who lost, but it's the thought that matters.

"Now, we will be reading out the least voted out of the five.", she says.

The crowd inhales sharply, everyone holding in their breath. Those on stage, are all popular kids, girls and boys who found making friends as their second nature. Except me and Elijah of course. He's new here, and I? I'm just me, I guess. It's not practical for me to want to win. Besides my marketing job was terrible. Like I know a fifth grader could have done better. I blame it on my nerves, to be honest. Damn you anxiety.

"Rika Martinez.", the principal says.

Relieved, I look around to find the poor girl. She smiles, evidently being a great sport. I like her already.

"Next, we will be reading out the person who got the fourth highest votes.", she says.

I could hear the heart beat of almost everyone on stage, the atmosphere tense. Everyone wanted to win, and everyone wanted to be polite as well, both being contradictory emotions to convey.

"Theo Lorde.", the principal says.

I find out that Theo indeed is one of the popular guys that Elijah hangs around with. Damn him, that lucky bastard.

Everyone congratulates him for making it to the Council, him smiling in return. I notice that his smile doesn't reach his cold eyes, dark with some other emotion that I couldn't put my finger on.

"We will now announce the second runner up in this election.", the principal says.

I glance at Mother, her anger filled eyes boring into mine. I look away, worried.

"Barry Marshal.", the principal says.

Everyone turns to find a chubby boy with a wide grin on his face. He looked happy to be here, not caring that he didn't win.

Mother gets angrier, sitting on the edge of her seat. I really don't know why she's so pissed, to be honest. Sure, I snuck out, but it wasn't to party or do drugs. Or maybe because I'm not supposed to be in this school in the first place. Yeah that does make sense.

"The runner up will be.. A countdown please.", the principal says.

The audience begin chanting slowly, counting down numbers from ten. Bile rises up my mouth, anxiety darkening my vision. I sway on the spot, and before I completely lose my consciousness, Elijah whispers, "Take a deep breathe."

I take an unsteady breathe in, and breathe out, my vision clearing up. I swear this has never happened before.

"Two. One.", The audience chants, applause following.

"Calm down, students.", the principal says, unaware of the atmosphere on the stage.

The crowd dies down, still muttering amongst themselves.

"This was a close call, so close that the votes differed by a single vote. The runner up is Elijah Valentine. Congrats both of you.", she says, smiling at us, clapping softly.

The crowd roars, both of us looking at each other awkwardly. Well I guess my terrible marketing paid off in the end. In the joy of the moment, I fail to see Mother getting up from her seat amongst the audience, storming down the aisle.

I grin widely, happy that I can stay in this school for longer. That isn't something that I got through my efforts. Just pure luck. I really do have luck on my side today. Gosh I'm bursting with happiness. Without thinking, I hug Valentine, just happy that he's there on stage with me.

His eyes widen, but he relaxes into my arms. He's the first to push me away, and looks at me questioningly for an instant, but then shuts down just as quick. His eyes darken, he coughs awkwardly, and looks back at the audience, now squealing at the cute scene unfolding in front of them. I still don't realize that Mother is out of her seats, now a few feet from the stage. And upon seeing me hug him, her anger further increases, all taking place when I was focused too much on Elijah and my victory.

She climbs onto the stage, her dress restricting her movement. She manages to climb on stage, and that's when I realize that she is pissed. Like really pissed.

The vein on her forehead throbbing, her face scarlet, she gets onto stage, and grabs the mic from the principal. The coordinator tries to stop her, a scuffle taking place on stage. I stand there, embarrassed by the chaos caused by Mother.

"My daughter, standing right there, that brat named Lena, won't be accepting this. She's switching schools so she doesn't need it, please give the award to the next highest voted.", she yells into the mic, the coordinator trying to garb the mic from her hand.

I stand there, flushed, unknowing what to do. A sudden burst of emotion, causes me to look at Mother, straight into her eyes, and say," Mother I have financial aid, so much so that I can pay for my tuition. Can please stopping suck a ruckus, we'll talk after reaching home?", I plead.

"No we will not, you spoiled brat, we will talk here in, in front of all these people, and ensure you tell them that you won't be stepping foot into this place again.", she yells again, her voice loud enough to not even require a mic.

I sigh loudly, just embarrassed by this whole thing. The coordinator manages to call the security and pull Mother off the stage. However, Mother manages to do her damage, yelling and scratching at them, the mic stand clattering onto the floor. She thrashes wildly, her arms flailing in desperation.

"Let me go, you fools.", she yells.

"That's my Mother, you guys, please take her home in a dignified manner.", I call out to the security.

He nods, and hold Mother by her arms, and she straightens up, her stature walking back outside elegantly, as if she never threw a tantrum a few minutes back.

I sigh.

Never have I gotten anything without a struggle, and this is definitely another such instance.