Uncontrolled Pressure
My head is about to explode with anticipation; the principal is about to announce what I have been waiting for my entire high school career. Hour after hour I have spent pouring endless work into everything I have done, I have never let one assignment leave my hands without passing my extreme expectations. In the beginning I felt good about my work, and made sure I was pleased with my effort, but towards the end it became pure competition for the ultimate prize. I see my greatest opponent across the auditorium gripping her seat with the same pained look across her face that I share; we both want this with our entire being. No one understands how we feel about this, and some think that it is silly or insignificant, but what is going to come through the principal's lips is a life altering for Reagan and myself.
The audience is quieting down, and my eyes are bulging out of my head, here comes the ultimate truth.
“I would like to congratulate this year’s valedictorian... Miss Reagan Young!”
I hear shouting and cheering, but I cannot see anything as my world turns to the blackest defeat. I have lost. It is over; I am done.
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Beep beep beep beep.... “Grace if you’re not going to turn off your alarm I’m going to come down!”
Imagine being the parent of an absolute failure and trying to hide your disappointment. My mom is completely lost with what she should do about me. Ever since Reagan was appointed instead of me, I went into a downward spiral that I probably will not come out of. No one looks me in the eye at my house because they know I can see what they are thinking through their eyes; I should be off at college instead of living in the basement and working at the local café.
My ambition for everything and anything has been lost because I finally realized something: what is the point of working yourself into the ground if nothing good comes out of it? I came to the conclusion that I might as well slack off and do nothing because that is just as rewarding, if not more, than when I was the biggest overachiever.
Before, I always thought that in the end someone would recognize good, honest, hard working people, but instead the cheating, slackers get praised if they show the slightest bit of effort. What no one but I know is that Reagan use to be apart of an institution for the clinically depressed and unstable. She was constantly ridden with anxiety attacks and mental breakdowns if everything was not perfect. We use to be best friends, and I would help her everyday after school with her homework to make sure she was keeping calm about everything.
All of that changed when she enrolled in Valley High freshmen year. She was in every single one of my classes because her mom pleaded with the guidance counsellors that I was the only one that kept her daughter on the right track. It was fun at first because we would endlessly talk about our teachers and classes, but then after every test or quiz she would run up to me asking what I got, and gloating whenever she would get a point higher than me. Gradually it turned into a fierce competition that raged like fire with every assignment. I never told anyone her secret because it would be cowardly, and I wanted to win on my own without using dirty tactics.
Now, as I sit in my old torn up sofa, I wish that I had told everyone about her past, because then she would have come back into her depression and I would have won.
My lethargic behavior is effecting everyone around me; my dog will not even move from the couch. I spend my days just lounging around on the couch watching dishes and laundry pile up in all corners. Normally, these things would bother me, but now I can understand why people live like this. As soon as I make it on-time for anything I get praised and receive special treatment, and the people who are always on-time are overlooked. Sometimes I do get into trouble, but it blows over within a matter of days. My boss has constantly been on me about getting orders ready, and bringing them out it a fast manner, but in the end it really does not matter.
Occasionally I think of my past, and how happy I was with myself, but I dismiss those thoughts quickly because it only leads me to remember that the happier I become the more I have to lose. I gave up my dream school because Reagan was attending also. My mom is always saying that it is never too late and that I should go back and show people who I truly am and what I am capable of.
As I hear my alarm clock beeping endlessly I finally realize what I have to do: I have to go to college and take Reagan down by surpassing her in every way there is.
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“We would love to have you at our school Miss Grace Richards. Now since you are attending late we only have a few dorms open for you. There is this really excellent student in Building C who roommate is no longer there, and I bet that she needs someone as cheery as you are to help her out a bit. If you have any questions please feel free to stop by my office. I hope that I will see much improvement from you Miss Richards.” With that, I became the newest member at Yale University.
The dorms look roughly familiar, probably because since I was little I have taking numerous tours and visited all of the school’s websites. My room is in Building C on the third floor last room. Everyone is buzzing around trying to bring things this way and that. Only a few manage to realize that I am new here, and they stop me to say hi. I find it peculiar how their eyes widen once I mention which room I am going to, it makes me wonder what happened to the girl that I am replacing.
My room is separated from the rest with bulky steel doors, and I just realized it has it’s own staircase that would have cut this trip in half. The door that leads to my room is wide open, and instead of just stepping in I peered through with curious eyes. The slip says that my roommate is named Victoria, so I quietly mumbled her name. Some sheets crumble as I hear I weak response. I look in further and see her getting up from her bed, quickly wiping tears from her puffy cheeks. Looking up at me she sniffled and smiled while extending her arms to embrace me in a hug followed by a high pitched greater that was one octave too high for me to understand.
“I am so glad to meet you! I have heard a lot about you from my last roommate.”
I pause and think, who else but Reagan went here that would know me? Curiosity got to me and I bluntly questioned, “Who was your last roommate?”
“Oh, the counsellor didn’t tell you about her? Well, she was a very nice girl who tried so hard everyday. She was up to her nose in work and would never let anything go. I became really close to her over the semester because she was just so understanding. But out of the nowhere I came home...” Victoria paused to blow her nose, and I just noticed that she had begun to cry.
“What happened when you came home?”I persisted.
“Well, I opened the door and was going to tell her that you were going to be coming to the school because I overheard one of my teachers trying to figure out what she was going to do with you since we already started a big project. Oh yeah by the way your in my history class!” Her sentences were getting longer and I really wanted to know what happened, she was just babbling at this point. I started listening again once I heard her tears pick up a bit.
My conclusion is that Reagan was her roommate and dropped out once I sent her the letter telling her that I decided to attend Yale; she probably could not handle more pressure. Maybe she went back into the loony bin. This girl Victoria seems like the overly emotional type and most likely came home and saw that her new friend left, explaining her tears. Content with my analysis I turned to start unpacking while listening to Victoria tell the story that I probably just summarized in my head.
“Back to what I was saying, when I came home I turned to shut the door and saw her there. Grace...,” she touched my arm to turn me around to face her, her words were unintelligible due to sobs, “Reagan... hung... herself.” She was shaking with tears, “This was... the letter I.... found on the.... floor next to... her.” Victoria was now in complete hysterics, she crumbled onto the floor and reached into the desk next to her to find the letter.
My heart stopped as Victoria handed me the letter. It was the letter I had sent Reagan.
