English Homework

The Winter Spelling Bee

This was quite literally homework. My teacher asked me o read it for the class and I left the zoom meeting but anyway, potatoe potato. Describe the other contestants of a competition before, and after, the winner has won.

• 𝓼𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 •

A big, bright, white spotlight stared down at him and the contestants at his back like a call to the heavens. His eyes roved from one side of the room to another like he was looking for answers in the audience. His chest rose and fell like he was running a marathon, the grip of failure tight around his neck, shaking his fate. A sigh that filled the air with the stench of resignation left his lips and his eyes stilled on the stone cold judges. The audience was just a faceless sea from where he stood, there were no answers there. 

His shoulders sagged, the shoulder pads in his blazer hiding this well. He gave in to his fate, letting lose a letter that put grins wide like the Cheshire Cat's own on the faces of his opponents. The judges' greasy grins and insincerely sympathetic eyes rubbed salt on his wounds, particularly a gaping one left raw and bleeding were his heart rest. There was no one else to blame, he pulled the trigger to his own demise.

Through the hidden speakers rang the almighty, monotonous voice of one of the three, condemning the boy. A faux empathetic expression graced the cheeks of the speaker, his tone condescending. He corrected the boy's spelling, each letter made right like a whip, stinging, biting and cutting into the boy.

The last two contestants watched him drag what was left of his body down the stage. His shoes never left the ground, his shoulders slumped forward and his head bent downward in ignominy. His time was up, he was done. 

They sat taller then elevated their chins in defiance at one another, neither one willing to bow, each one catching a whiff of victory. The stillness in the auditorium rode on the tension between the two making the silence deafeningly loud. The air was warm and buzzing with tension, each breath was a drug, hooking you in deeper and deeper into the tense atmosphere.

One of the boys was on the verge of tears, the other was thinking of what he could do with his prize money, an onslaught of different emotions working against them. One of them had drawn blood from picking at the nail on his thumb, the other slowly wore out his tie, rubbing and scratching it constantly, an anxious wreck. Neither of the two let the audience know though, their postures were firm and poised, giving nothing away.

A number was called, the boy with it stuck to his chest stood und moved forward like a lamb to the sacrifice. A fine blue blazer, pressed pants and crisp white button up shirt speaking volumes above the drumming of his heart. He was perfect. He smiled at the crowed, pearly white teeth on display, trembling hands digging into his back, winning the hearts of the audience with his charm. The judges looked him over, their eyes tearing apart any shreds confidence he had, scratching away his facade as they did everyone before him. But he yielded naught. He was perfect.

A scoff and a grunt later untraceable, heavenly voices delivered his word.

It rang through the speakers and washed over him, nipping at his mind. A laboured breath slipped past his lips, but his shoulders broadened none the less. The sixteen letters struck him like cuffs to his hands or weights on his neck. The judges looked back at him with faces sardonic and unfeeling.

With his heart threatening to break loose from his chest, he stated to spell, each letter strong and unquestioned like the word was right before him, like he was reading from a dictionary.

The audience was in awe, whispers of his greatness and praise breaking out and clogging his ears. He felt gratified, like a king, his chest puffing a little more, he could taste the win on the tip of his tongue, victory was indeed sweet. He spoke curtly and briskly, with a sort of conviction that made everyone think he must have been right.

As he spelled, his eyes refocused on a screen that exhibited the contestant at his back. He was hunched over, a soft quivering of his back implying sobs. Even his opponent could sense his looming victory. A smirk danced across his lips, his features glowing with glee.

He eventually finished the word, he exhaled, relieved, it was over, he had done it. Like the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders, he hunched over in a bow, his hands pressed at his sides. He was about ready to take off his blazer and jump all over as he felt light and weightless, on cloud nine. The ecstasy was clear on his features that were no longer marred with wrinkles of unease and deep thought.

The judges stomped out the flames of his roaring elation soon enough, having waited for him to get his hopes up just enough first.

The boy stilled and nothing more. His heart, a constant drumming louder than his own thoughts was suddenly silenced. The judges contemptuously spelled him the word correctly, accentuating his blunder. The boy stood in an appalled silence. From the crowd, there was not a peep, a slither of a word or a whisper. His eyes hollowed and face crumpled, like he was in pain, like he had witnessed a horror so great, it was impossible to contain. 

Not even the canon's bursting and confetti showering down on him, but not for him, unnerved him in his frozen state. Still as a statue he stood, cold from the rejection and loss. His chest tightened like his lungs had collapsed and he couldn't breathe. The weight of the wold came crashing back down, crushing him.

His eyes filled with tears, he told himself not to let them fall but there went the waterworks, unannounced. His mouth opened and shut mutely like he was going to plea for some sort of consideration. No one paid him any mind. He had faded from the light and no longer glittered in their eyes. Like a body long dead, he was dragged from the stage, he was blocking the camera men. A knob the size of his fist found itself nestled in his throat as he choked on gasps of air and sobs when alone and in tumultuous silence. Gone was the smirk and the light dancing in his eyes. His suit puckered and wrinkled, his hands disorganized his hair. He would do better in the next winter spelling bee, he made himself swear.