The Candydates

8.TRIPPING ON GUILT.

"Damn it" I scream as I wobble towards the principal's cabin with my phone in one hand, the copy of the letter I picked up from the dorm in the other and my bag pressed between my left arm and my torso. I am close to crying. It is way past 12:15 pm and I feel nothing but helpless, hopeless and dejected.

As I climb the last set of stairs my mind replays what I had to face in the past half an hour. After that douche of a heartless person left me with that clown of a senseless doctor it was as if I was starring in the movie called 'My own personal hell.'  

All those stupid questions he was asking like 'Did you visit a doctor before this?' or 'Let's set up a counselling session for you, shall we?' were just adding fuel to the fire of my anger and tension. It took me 23 minutes and 13 tests to prove to him that my mental condition is normal. Can't say the same for it at this very moment. My mind is bursting with wrath and at the first sight of that shameless man I am going to scratch his eyes out. But there is something that is concerning me more. 

My selection. I am trying to keep my mind at ease but failing miserably. My legs feel numb from the pace I'm running at, but I don't stop. I have been planning for this since I stepped into this university 3 years ago. And now? I don't even know if I will be eligible to fight the elections. The principal has always valued time more than anything. And I just don't know now. I don't know what to feel. Terror. Pure terror has taken over my heart.

Where is the turn to the principal's cabin? The short distance between the conference hall and the principal's cabin seems like 32339 miles. I glance at the students playing basketball from the ceiling to floor glass wall and wish I was there at the moment. I absolutely loath basketball but playing it and losing at it seemed way more appealing than the hot mess I am in at the moment.

Finally I spot the office and bring together the little hope I have left and increase my pace. I reach the door and swing it open without a thought. I am past the phase of caring about manners. 

"Sir I-" My heart drops as I don't see him in the room. I let my bag and letter fall to the floor, and embrace the feeling of dejection in all its glory.My eyes scan the room hopelessly but I have already accepted defeat.I recall sir's statement and feel my eyes get watery but focus on taking deep breaths and maintaining composure 

My ears perk up when I feel foot steps behind me. I turn around in full speed with my cell of hope charged to its maximum only for it to drop back down on seeing the cause of all my problems instead of Sir.

I lose it when I see that idiotic smile on his face and burst out without a pause, "Not everything is a joke Adam. But I am the one who is stupid enough to assume that a person who has got everything at his disposal since the day he was born will value anything or respect anyone."

If this presidentship was just for my resume, I would probably feel 10% of the rage I am feeling right now. Alas, my life is not as easy. I fist my hands, not wanting to visit that part of my box of memories. 

His smile drops but I don't stop. I move towards him, wiping away my tears. "This was my dream Adam. Which you just crushed."

"You." I poke his chest. "You are so lucky to have your father's money, because without that, you have nothing in you that is worth anything." My words sting my own ears but I don't let it show. He has caused me way more harm.

I look into his eyes and a little something inside me breaks. His grey eyes mirror nothing but hurt and for a second I want to take back everything I said and comfort him, but my rage comes seeping in again. He doesn't even bother to talk back. 

I give him one last look before turning away and walking towards the door. At the very moment, my cell phone rings and I see Sarah's name flashing on the screen. I take a deep breath.