Perfect Winners

“You were born to win, but to be a winner, you must plan to win, prepare to win, and expect to win.” –Zig Ziglar

I fingered the fringed skirt.

Perfect.

I looked perfect. As perfect as I can get.

My hair was tied back with a large bow making my long face easy to see. I was clad in black stockings, a plaid skirt, leather shoes and a starchy white shirt that seemed to be extremely tight by my chest. My dull locks of brown were nicely pinned and my light green eyes-which were often noted to be puke-like green by my brutal peers – scanned my entire appearance, satisfied.

I would look just like all the students on the glossy pamphlets to ‘Uictorum Academy’ if it weren’t for my pasty skin, unkempt hair and terrified expression. I had been waiting for this moment my entire life. Ever since I was five my parents planned this. If it weren’t for me I’m surprised they’d even be together, they knew if I made it up there, they had achieved something great together. Something they could tell everyone.

I was the golden star. And if that golden star fell, I knew they would too.

I lived in hard times, I knew that. And in the year of 3000 even with all the discoveries scientists were making there were degradations in life. Economy was rising and falling. The working class suffering. It was a world for ready-born winners. But I could corrupt the system.

And I had to win. Because losing is not an option. Unless you count endgame.

So I worked and worked and worked. Till I reached the first step to getting closer to victory. Uictorum Academy, the school for winners. Only the richest, the smartest or the very best could make it. I had memorised that line from the brochure when I was five. I knew I was the smartest. And I knew who was the richest. But the best? That was yet to be revealed.

“Eleanor. Get down here now!” My mother stressed.

                I sighed satisfied with myself and rush downstairs to deal with my mother “Yes mom?” I ask.

“Are you ready? The metro is scheduled for ten. It’s nine thirty and you’re busy admiring yourself in a mirror!” She snapped as I flinched away from her.

“Yes mom.” I replied with a monotone voice not allowing my fear to show through.

“You have everything?” She narrows her eyes.

“Yes mom.”

“Now, you have to do us proud. You are not going to make-” she makes a disgusted face “friends and to have a jolly good time. You’re there for one reason and one reason only. To-“

“Win. Yes mom.”

“Don’t cut me off! Uictorum is silly enough letting you in so take the chance. And remember, there are consequences if you lose this game. It’s either win-”

“Or endgame.”

“Again. Watch your behaviour!” Mom scolded me.

She continued to drone on about things I had to remember, things I had to do. I nodded, let out the occasional “Yes mom.”, “Of course.” and “Mm-hmm.”

But her last sentence reminded me what I was there to win “The selection will take place. One year from today. You must be chosen. If not, you are and always will be a failure.”

The selection. Ten students, five boys, five girls, from Uictorum, are taken to the center of our country, Cor, the heart of our beloved country Gloria. There they were tested and assigned tasks. They could bring any family members and would start a life in Cor.

At least that’s what they told us. When the student and their family were taken to Cor. We never knew what lay in the beautiful land of Cor, we had all seen pictures but never really heard much of it. The families that immigrated to Cor soon forgot about everyone in the city. Not a single word from them, I guess they thought they were better than us city rats. And that they were.

“Eleanor!” She sharply fumed “Are you listening?”

I nodded shaking away my thoughts as she continues “Your father is now busy on the phone call. He’s informing one of your fellow students’ father that you are also attending Uictorium. He wants me to tell you he-”

He loves me?

He wishes me well?

He will miss me?

“Wants you to win.”

“Yes mom.”

“Yes mom.” She mocked me with an air, “With that vocabulary, you’ll be looked down on.”

“Agrarian.” I mumbled.

“What?” She asked me with a glare.

“Nothing.” I mumbled again.

“Good. Keep your mouth shut mind you when you get there.” She gave me a curt nod and points to the door “Remember, the metro we got is the best there, 800 miles an hour, so don’t fall asleep. You can get there yourself of course. Good bye Eleanor. I will only expect the best from you.”

The best.

I am the best.