The Run

I had always been the weirdo with no friends that sat alone, and this day explains why. It was Senior-Award Day. A day I was proud of because I knew I wouldn't be winning any awards, or so I thought. I had always been timid with severe anxiety, so walking across the stage in front of the entire senior class, and an audience would be a disaster. I did not want to win an award and to make sure that didn't happen, I had a master plan. A week before the ceremony, I had made sure to get confirmation from all of my teachers, I wouldn't be getting an award. Although it was one instructor, R.O.T.C, who insisted that all senior cadets should receive one. I assured him that I did nothing all year to deserve anything. Jokingly, he seemed to reconsider, and out of desperation, I chose to believe him. There was no way he would be calling my name. I never thought my lack of participation would ever pay off, or so I thought.

I was ecstatic. It was enough that I, the girl who never wore dresses because she hated her legs, had to wear one in heels, for everyone to see. The last thing I needed, was to be the center of attention, and I had to make sure that didn't happen. My mom also worked at the school and wasn't proud her daughter wouldn't be winning an award. She showed me the program for confirmation, not understanding why I was proud I wasn't winning anything. Although my answer would be too ignorant for reasoning, I was proud that all I had to do was wear a grandma dress, not revealing much of my legs. The ceremony was approaching, and the day before, I received disturbing news. All seniors would be receiving a certificate just for attending. Great.

It was here, and I had devised a perfect plan. With R.O.T.C out of the way, all I had to worry about was the little certificate, and I was almost certain that when they called my name, I wouldn't have heard it. The ceremony began as the seniors walked in to sit on the stage. I starred out into the large-dark audience as stiffed-necked as possible, hoping not to bring attention to myself in the horrible dress. The stage was lit with the brightest lights known to mankind, and I failed to see that a disaster was waiting to happen. Sitting towards the front of the stage, I watched the other seniors as they gladly receive their awards. "Look straight ahead, don't move a leg", I thought.

Towards the middle of the ceremony and me almost escaping a free man, the R.O.T.C instructors were next to give their awards. As my instructor walked up, for some reason my heart dropped. Could a disaster really be waiting to happen? There was nothing else I could do at that moment. The room got quiet as he began to call the first name. I remained tense, looking straight ahead. "What if he called my name. God no", I thought. As everyone finished clapping, it was time for the next lucky individual to go received what they had earned. The second name was called and it sounded exactly like mines. My soul died twice. I was hoping I could remain sitting, and indeed I tried, but my classmates spotted me, and he wouldn't move to the next name until I walked up. I was now the center of attention and humiliation.

Slowly, I stood up. The bright lights were hitting my greasy forehead, headlining my dull and confused grin. I heard my parents clap for two seconds each, as it became silent once again. I had to do something, and I had to do it fast. Walking across the stage would take too long, and it would bring more attention to my legs. There were no other options. I took two steps and bolted across the stage. As my heels clicked at a fast pace, I heard faint laughter. I grabbed the award, and as I ran back to my seat, I made sure not to make eye contact with anyone, which would only make it more humiliating. I faced front in a full sweat of first and second-hand embarrassment. I revaluated the tiny bit of confidence I once had.

As the rest of the ceremony went on, I constantly tried to use x-ray vision, scanning the audience to see if someone was still starring at me, or if my parents had ducked under their seats. I felt dumb and defeated. I couldn't believe he still decided to call my name. For the rest of the ceremony, I sat stiffly in my seat, never moving a muscle, leg, and definitely not my head. Maybe everyone would forget what had happened if they could forget I was sitting directly under bright lights. "Why did I run", I thought. Maybe I should've kept running out of the building. That probably would've made more sense.