A new candidate for student council president emerged. He missed the first deadline, but he was determined to make the second one, despite joining on a dare made Tuesday at lunch. The deadline for his first speech was that afternoon.
"Dude, you're not going to get it done in time," Tristan Shutt nagged him on their way to class.
"I have to," William Tabbs insisted.
"I was joking," Pierce Thavel laughed.
"Laugh all you want, but I'm done," he declared with a vengeance. "I've tried to change things! I've been on student council for three years as what? Representative? Please! I'm done! I am going to be the student council president. I am going to finally get things done. No more stolen band instruments, no more overzealous jocks or prissy popular girls. I'm going to make a change! I'm going to change the way this entire school is run! Me!"
"Well..." Tristan hesitated. "Good luck, man. You're gonna need it. Against Roman Tally and Frieda Cats? Luck better be on. Your. Side."
"I don't need luck! This is a guaranteed victory!" He paused in pregnant silence. "That'll be my campaign motto! "Vote for Bill, It's a No-brainer!""
Pierce clutched his sides as he laughed harder. "You're gonna get your ass handed to you, man!"
"Just help me put posters when they're ready," he grumbled.
Bill stomped his way to his locker, thinking about how he's going to come up with the perfect strategy when he saw something that made him pause.
There was Roman Tally shoving a tiny slip of paper into his locker through the ventilation slits.
"What are you doing?" Bill demanded.
Roman jumped, dropping about a dozen more little slips of paper. "Nothing," he lied. He bent down and started quickly trying to pick up all the papers he dropped. The tiny pieces of paper slowly drifted down the drafty hallway one piece at a time.
"Get away from my locker!" Bill ordered.
Roman looked up at him, then left the papers and quickly skulked away.
Bill approached his locker and started putting in the code. When he glanced down at his feet, he saw what Roman was doing. He was standing on dozens of tiny posters-- no, business cards-- but hundreds of eyes were staring up at him. It almost looked like they were pleading, or feigning innocence while hiding a darker truth. Either way, they seemed scared of the message the back of the cards held. One card picked up a draft and flipped over revealing the message "NO MORE EYES".
Bill grimaced. He regretted his decision already.
YOU ARE READING
The Only Thing We Have To Fear
HorrorIn a small school where the quintessential high school experience means everything to everyone, exists Roman Tally. Roman is a man of ulterior motives with no interest in the politics of high school, thus it is universally accepted as strange when R...
