The Life I've Thrown

Storm of Memories

Okay. I don't know if you like it guys, but, here I go.

♣♣♣ means dream

*** timeskip

--message

' 'for thoughts

//flashback

~~~~~

I wiped my sweaty hands on the sides of my skirt as looked around my busy classmates running around the backstage. Some are panicked and constantly checking the placements of props from time to time, some are swiftly applying make up on the face of the performing characters. Most are shouting at each other feeling the pressure of this event and the rest are running to and fro the dressing room pulling or pushing the dress racks with them. I sighed and sat on the available chair next to me and scrolled my eyes around the noisy backstage once more. I saw my co- performers reading their lines again and again. I let out another sigh and leaned back on the back of my chair. 'Why am I into this mess?' I asked myself.

//

"Okay class, listen up!!" Our homeroom teacher said in a loud voice over the boisterous chitchats of my classmates, catching their attention and successfully muting their voices. We sat properly on our seats as we focused our attention to her. She stood in front, both of her palms pressed onto her table as she leaned a bit forward eyeing us all.

Silence filled the room as we waited for what she was about to say. "The school festival is coming up. You all already knew since that was your topic earlier." She mumbled the last sentence but I was able to hear it because the room is awfully quiet. "Yes. There will be a class event and I'll leave it to your president to talk about your event with all of you. Shana, do you understand?" The said girl nodded accompanied by a low 'yes, ma'am' and my classmates started to get rowdy once again.

"But!!" Our teacher yelled interrupting the excited cries of my classmates and a dead silence once again loomed inside our classroom. "Our class was selected by the school administration to present the annual theatre play. Remember last year, Class 2-D was the one who presented?" She said more like a statement rather than a question. Mixed protests and cheers was then heard around me. I sighed. Another troublesome thing added in my list of troublesome- things- to- do- list. I heard Cy snicker at my side and a 'tsk' was heard from the other guy beside me. "Quiet down kids, please," my classmates obliged and she nodded in pleasure. "The chosen play was 'Romeo and Juliet' by Shakespeare." She continued.

The boys grumbled in annoyance while my girl classmates squealed in delight. Me and Cy simply exchanged a look of distaste. We both hated hopeless romanticism. For me, its creepy and for her its simply exaggerated. Don't get me wrong I DO believe in love. WE do. It's just that for us love is something normal. Not the thing that you drink poison or stab yourself or kill, anyway, you get my point right? Love portrayal doesn't have to be corny or anything. Just thinking about the mushy lines makes me shudder.

"Yeah, you guys can grumble all you want but nothing's changing. I listed  different roles for you to pick inside this box." She showed us a yellow box with a hole on top that can fit a hand inside, obviously. How can we pick if our hands dont for, right? "Come in front one by one but DO NOT open it yet. Not until everyone gets their own and you'll all open it altogether." She said stressing out two words. My brows arched up as I heard the cliche demand. She called the student sitting at the first row and first column at the very right. So, the pattern would be from right to left starting to the front up to the back.

***

"Okay open up." She commanded and we all did as told. I unfolded my paper and read the words. My eyes widen and I dropped the paper I held and it floated into the air before landing on the floor. I blinked and took the paper I once dropped and read it again and again until the words that were written finally sinked in my buffering brain cells.