One Ring Down

Chapter 2

           I finally roll out of bed after five minutes of dreadful thinking. I’ve waited for this day since I was a little girl; but, after last night’s nightmare, I’m not so sure anymore. Graduation day is supposed to be a wonderful day, but I’m finding it hard to even pretend to smile. All the stress has made me lose my appetite, so instead of eating I go right to dressing myself up for graduation. My hair and skin is already perfect, a trait all people share due to careful gene picking, so I only run the comb through my hair a few times before heading straight to my gown. The traditional graduation robes were done away with nearly a hundred years ago. Now boys wear a green, form-fitting tailcoat paired with green slacks. Girls wear a gold dress that hangs off the tip of the shoulders, turns corset-like around the waist, and then drapes down, with a bit of a flare, to just below the knees.

           I finish zipping the back of the dress and then turn to my mirror for inspection. The dress is beautiful, I won’t deny that. The silky-gold cloth shines like the sun and drapes magnificently around my perfect body. Every girl will look like this today: a perfect gold dress, draping perfectly around their perfect bodies. This is the glory of our world today: perfection.

           But then I look above the beautiful dress, and above my perfect body, and past my perfect face. I hate to remember; not all girls will look like me, in fact, none of the other girls will look like me. I’m the only one with bright, golden hair, and it makes me imperfect. As I feared last night, the equally golden dress only accentuates my imperfection. It makes me loath myself. What is such an imperfect human doing in such a perfect gown? In such a perfect body? I stare at my ugly hair for so long that I forget why I’m even in front of the mirror. Then I hear the bus horn. I’m late again.

           I run a comb through my hair one last time, shove my papers into my backpack, and rush out the door. Everything seems to go in slow motion as I arrive at the bus. There are fifteen boys and fourteen girls loading onto the vehicle, all beautiful and perfect, and happy. The group’s mixture of brown and black hair looks stunning on top of their green and gold gowns. I’m suddenly so self-conscious of the disgusting locks on my head, and it feels like everyone is staring; my hands spread themselves over my hair, trying to hide. When the girl across from me asks what I’m doing, I play cool and say I’m just covering my ears because of the noise. There truly is a lot of noise coming out of the excited seniors, so the girl doesn’t have a hard time believing my lie.

           It’s only after I hear a familiar ‘hello’ that my heart starts to settle down. Nick casually sits next to me; he too looks perfect in his green outfit.

           “You look nice.” I know he’s just creating small talk. Out of all the people, he’s the only one that truly knows how distressed I am right now.

           “Stop lying,” I hiss back at him. “You and I and everyone else know I look disgusting.” I don’t mean to sound so hostile, but it’s proving impossible to keep my voice calm.

           “Don’t say that. Your hair may not be perfect, but it’s still nothing short of beautiful.” Between his words and genuine smile, Nick has me feeling better about myself in no time. The bus speeds down the road and for a little while, I feel normal.

           I’m quickly pulled back to reality when the bus stops. I follow the other twenty-nine seniors inside the school, completely silent, encompassed in my own thoughts. Nick is by me the whole time, following behind protectively. He says nothing of how quiet I’m being, and only smiles when I turn to look at him. How lucky I would be, how lucky any girl would be, to be paired with a man like Nick.  Not only am I captivated to Nick because he may be my answer to a normal life, but my heart honestly loves him. I know it’s wrong of me to think this way; matches are made strictly from compatibility, not love, but that hardly seems to matter compared to what I feel. I love Nick with every fiber of my being, and whether I was perfect or not, I would want to spend the rest of my life with him. These feelings only make the ceremony that’s about to happen that much harder.

           All of my paperwork is handed in, and I am now in my designated seat, waiting for graduation to start. Girls are on the right; boys are on the left. Only the thirty of us students and the school principal are here today. Everyone’s parents are at work, and all other teachers are teaching. This is how it is every year: just us and our future.

           I squirm in my seat. My patience is already wearing thin, and knowing the ceremony won’t start for another half hour only makes it worse. I look to the left side, where the boys are seated, and find Nick. We’re both at the back of the succession because of our last names; and for the same reason, he’ll also take the stage right after me. Nick gives me his legendary warm smile, and I in return give him a very nervous, half-hearted one.

           The half hour goes by deathly slow. Each second ticks away in my ear. Some of the pressure is released when I finally hear the minute long national anthem begin to play. Everyone stands up in recognition. Following immediately after the anthem, our principal walks to the podium; he starts his fifteen minute speech about the beginning of our nation, and about our journey to perfection. I can’t stand all this talk about perfectness, so my mind wanders. I’m not allowed to look away from the stage: it’s a show of carelessness, which is considered bad-temperament, meaning its imperfect and undesirable; so to compromise, I stay staring at the podium and attach my thought to every detail of it. No matter what I try to pay attention to, my brain keeps going back to the top of the podium, where a microphone would normally be. At least it would be there if we were a few hundred years into the past. We don’t need microphones anymore. Everyone is genetically bred to have a perfect voice and perfect hearing. Perfection- why won’t my mind stop thinking of that word? I’m beyond tired of hearing it.

           And then I hear the graduation music. Fifteen minutes have gone by, and the handing-out of diplomas has now started. It will be another half hour before this whole thing is over and I’m dreading every minute of it. My heart sinks another inch every time one of my class-mate’s names is called. Everyone smiles as they take the stage. Everyone looks so hopeful and happy. But not I; I must have the biggest grimace plastered on my face right now. I’d try to smile, but I’m too frozen in fear to do anything but look forward. Before I know it, the girl to my left, Jenny, is tapping my shoulder. For a second I forget where I am and look to her in utter confusion; but, when I see her expectant face and golden dress, I’m reminded that I’m supposed to be lining up at the bottom of the stage with the rest of my row; everyone to my right has already started walking. I quicken my pace to catch up to them, and at the same time try to act like nothing’s wrong, but I can’t help but feel a spotlight has been place right on me; a nice, big, golden spotlight. Nick is directly on the other side of the stage, waiting for his turn. I lock eyes with him for a brief second. His dark brown orbs tell me that everything will be alright, bringing me some comfort, but not enough to stop my trembling.

           A few names are called and soon the girl in front of me is taking the stage, followed by another boy, and then the two words I’ve been dreading this entire ceremony ring out through the room.

           “AnnaLynn Strice”

           The world seems to go silent; my hands are clammy and won’t seem to stop shaking. I feel like running away, but, I can’t.

           I time my steps with the graduation music playing in the background, concentrating on the rhythm to keep myself calm, and walk on stage to receive my death sentence.