Friends

PART FOURTEEN: DROPPED-DEAD

January 27, 1998, Tuesday

I walked up the alley, down the road, and inside the door. I came across my father watching the television and I forgot to lose my smile as he called me out for it. Across my room, there was the mirror turning my face inverted. Now, I can see my face frowning.

I told the birds hanging in the tree to restore my confidence but they don't know a thing about what I'm saying. They threw a branch over my window. I needed to keep up and regain confidence. I never spoke in front of a crowd, this is my first. I rehearsed, then rehearsed, then rehearsed. Knowing I'd make a mistake in front would make me feel miserable for the time to come.

The alley, I thought about when waking up. Dark, tight, closed-space. I walked through that pathway to the gymnasium. The setting of all events, competitions, and the flag ceremony. After those occasions, Mr. Watts placed me in the middle of the stage along with the runners-up. This was a feeling that could vanish in a minute but it's a shame that I'm not at peace. My body's aching and my heart's pounding. It must've been a bad dream or a bad day for me.

Ryan and Stu, the school's student council, are the MCs who are gathered in the middle of the court. Fears dropped low as they finished calling the third runner-up and second runner-up. "You must've been waiting for Charlie Rode, aren't you?" Stu asked, and everyone was feral as Wayne started hyping the crowd up. Applaud there, applaud here, applaud inside me, applaud me. "That's right. The crowd is truly waiting for Charlie. Kindly give it up for his poem—Adventure," Ryan handed me the microphone. I tried my best to look into my script and never followed my eyes anywhere else. My eyes were like jello, which moved everywhere and crossed between my words, without a doubt, it was all like a stop-motion picture.

I finished. The silence began to fade as everyone applauded the winners of the poetry contest. Luckily, I didn't become stiff at my movements. I hate standing in a stance that fits the description of that person, I also didn't shatter my voice halfway through the reading. It never mattered if the audience didn't give a damn about that poem. What matters is that there's someone in that audience who will be listening to my poem and understanding word by word. Mr. Watts applauded and reached out to me, "Here, the cash prize." I'd almost forgotten that there was a cash prize for the winners. How lucky must I feel hearing the voices of Harry and the others reaching out to me? "Charlie, first period. Hurry," Harry reminded me as I ran past the court. "You did great out there," Jade said to me.

"I did, didn't I?"

"Of course, you did. No one's doubting you here," Fiona replied. "Now, keep this envelope to yourself not to the public eye." She tossed the cash over to my backpack and we headed over to the next class. I came into the room, and my teacher applauded my poem. This is not going so well—a fever dream must it be. It's not good, the attention that's been preceding me this whole day. Never knew this was the most heartfelt moment I'd ever been for myself. I'd sit in the dark, but my name is becoming a whole lot in this class. I've been hearing—" Pair with me. No-no, be in our group. Let's be together." It's too much to handle but Harry is there to put them in their places. "Oh, please just drop dead already. He's not interested so it's best to leave," he said in an annoyed tone. "Can you believe them? Let's finish the book."

At the sound of a clap, classes were dismissed. "Hey, we were just talking about going to the mall for Charlie," Fiona greeted us as we walked out. "I can't, I'm feeling tired," I replied.

"Oh, that's a shame. But another day, we will be hanging out. Take a rest," Harry added. "He's had a long day. At Chemistry, students kept bothering him and..." My mind fades with every conversation I hear. I went to my house—straight to my room. I dropped dead.

It was late at night, I kept hearing my doors being kicked all over. I left it and went back to sleep. It's breezing, the air's breezing. Not the warm feeling I've been getting this day.