A Short Story - The Best and Biggest College Presentation

Jamie

I am as shit as a freshly dropped out horse manure. I am not barefooted, but my feet have never felt more intimate with the ground since I tried to run away from the pigs, Jeremi and Jay. My funny-looking short hair, though with the reliance of a bull under the blistering sun, never fails to stroke my eyes with its pony. I can’t complain since without it, others would be tremendously amazed  as how much water my body can contain. Some of its drops have even crawled their way into my fingertips. With well-watered hands I can’t help but grabbing either my father’s belt that I had worn or the weird-looking name tag that made my name all the more miraculous. I wish I had never worn glasses, because without question, the well-dressed popular girl whom I couldn’t help but staring at certainly don’t like me staring at her. Some good life I will lead. 

As requested, I brought a large backpack filled with things that I will find myself throw out as soon as it’s all over. The large, conspicuous backpack that I carried around has lost any meaning of weight. In the morning it was as hard as a rock, in the day, it was as bearable as a foal, but now it has become almost weightless as if it’s been spending all the time meditating. To be sure, by this stage, a ten-minute walk would feel like a thousand-minute walk. 

The torturous walk certainly ends with a destination, but then I have to sit for 5 hours or more for a seemingly endless talk show. Then I walk, sit, and in the end of the day, drag my way to my bedroom.

Amanda

You are the best, brightest star in the entire sky. Yes, you are. No one stands in the way of your perfect score, and this is only the beginning. Your feet suddenly grow warm at the thought of becoming the next Maudy Ayunda, embracing the ground as your stage and you its solo performer. The everflowing bodily fluid emanating from your skin only makes the walk and the talk all the more admirable and sexy. Your perfectly curled hair is set for an astonished and admiring bunch of people, despite the ensemble contributes to the near dehydration. Then again, there is no winning to the hair argument. The same goes for the little touches you’ve made on the clothes so that people will see you better. Nothing too outrageous, of course, but just enough to keep ‘em coming and going. The recently-bought H&M bag, the newest Manolo Blahnik shoes, the slightly conspicuous nail polish, all for a good cause. Yeah, some life I will lead.

Years of worming books, sleeping with one eye, and back-and-forth academic consultations have prepared you for this moment. When this is all over, you will be more center and front than you can ever possibly imagine. Since you are also quite popular among everybody, everybody now wants you to be their face and voice. But not too popular as to make everyone think they’re my best friends, of course. 

In Campus

It is in the middle of orientation event, and some students practically dragged themselves to be on time lest they receive intense glares and big, opera-huge voices telling them to walk like a duck all the way to their seat. It is yet again another talk, and many of them have become restless as they frequently shift their butts. Some of them listen with a book in hand, whereas some others snore loudly for all their friends to hear. With the final words spoken by the host along with the collectible relief of its audience, they are welcomed to the big field to recreate a well-timed, Asturo-flipping videos. Suddenly, from the corner of the road, comes a group consisting of 6 military-looking people on the back of a well-groomed gentleman. Their walking paces are as serious as Death coming to take the students’ poor souls away.

The students, gathered at the big field, barely register what happen. Some puzzling looks the event organizers and lecturers have as to what transpires. Though visibly stunned, whispers are still heard across the sea of people, “Is it the Kopassus?”, “Somebody are really going to jail,”, “There goes my lunch for the day,”. After a medium-length talk, it turns out, the contingent wants to pick up a student with short hair by the name of Jamie Simorangkir. In a short time they fumble to see which Jamie Simorangkir they spoke of. By the time they figure out the person, confusion arises. “How is that poor looking person got involved in something nasty?”, one person audibly comments. But then, as soon as Jamie reached the podium, the entire group give him a solemn bow.

Somewhere in the crowd, a well-groomed student is visibly distressed.