Hello, my readers. Many days have elapsed since the last post, and now, I am here to write how I was squashed by the irrefutable. Any names here have been changed for protection. Any opinions here are all my own. Any profanity here will either be censored or not, judging on the narrator’s mood. Any questions? Good. Not in the mood to answer any.
After school ended, with the “Good luck” message from the PA ringing in my ears, I waited for Mum to pick me up. I was wearing a pearl-white sweater shirt, black skinny jeans, and black sneakers. The “good luck” message didn’t really quite sink in, as I was shifting from foot to foot nervously. Though, it could be that modern generation trademark of a need for speed. Impatience is like this yellow-journalist when it comes to time. Science snack: Einstein’s relativity says that it is according to perspective of time passing by. Like how you’re inside an airplane and you won’t really sense it moving the 500-km.-per-hr. it is moving. However, if you were right next to it, it would pass by you in a second. By the time she found me in front of the school, I was in the middle of a rendition of Taylor Swift’s “Eyes Open”. Mum was disappointed not to see my twin sister there. As we went to the taxi with her interrogating me on the why-the-heck-isn’t-she-there (bad-cop style), I tried my best not to lose my temper.
As I stepped into the window seat, I kept myself from sniffing the car, unwilling to lose my lunch to the carsickness I am very prone to. Today, I knew I was more susceptible. Frazzled nerves and a full stomach don’t mix– at least not very attractively. Eventually, Mum calmed down and we decided to concentrate on the positive things to save me from a nervous breakdown. Which is the last thing I want happening to me inside a taxi, a considerable distance from the nearest hospital. I took sips of water to wet my throat and to calm me down. I wish I had expended more energy at PE in first period– to relieve more of the stress, but I told Mum that I was thankful for gym this morning to relieve me of some stress. I tried not to think about this morning when she fussed about what I was supposed to wear.
I allowed myself to breathe as to calm me down, as Mum noticed that I was tense. I began to wonder about the two other contestants from IS5 who are competing against me, but Mum insisted that I don’t have to– their mental health of the moment was not my concern. And that, the spelling bee really shouldn’t be for the school, but for me. I comforted myself with the thoughts of winning and getting the gold. Mum told me that a little stress is good, but not to be completely terrified or “complacent about it”. I assumed my twin has gone to pick up my little since we kinda had that agreement. And that she should be fine…
When the taxi pulled up at Long Island City High School, we signed ourselves in and lined up in the hallway. I thought how we weren’t there since the SHSAT test-taking. Honestly, life seemed much easier then. The hallway was buzzing about the spelling bee, while I, like many heroes and heroines going to meet their fates, I had a grand soliloquy. One part being this:
Me: Who’s the smart b—-? Who’s the smart b—-?
Me: I am!!!!
Me: Oh yes you are. Damned right you are!!!
As lame as it sounds, well, it did bring up my confidence by a segment. Mum also helped by supplying me with psalms to read to let me know that the Man Upstairs (whom I’ve spent much of last night praying to for his insurance) will guide me. So I was feeling nervously excited or excitedly nervous. One of which is out of place.
The line of contestants and their guardians moved to a table where we registered and signed in our names. I listed myself at the line for “M-R”. They also gave me a tag with a number. I was number 171.
To be continued….