I really don't like this school.
I closed my locker with a loud bang, which surprised the couple making out a few lockers down. They looked at me suspiciously and then decided to find another spot to continue their romantic session. I was glad they were gone.
I had two crumpled sheets of paper in my hand, one was blue, and the other was yellow. I felt annoyed as I read the neatly written words on them. I was in serious trouble.
In my musical theory class, the only subject I enjoyed in this school, each student had to choose one of the programs mentioned on the papers I was holding. My stomach felt uneasy, and I nervously bit my lip as I headed to my history class. I had to choose one of the options, and if I didn't, I would fail the class.
It was stupid, I know. It's not like I didn't already have a few doctorate's under my belt, and it certainly wasn't like I didn't have an amazing life outside of these stone walls. Sliding into my seat in history, I undid the backpack on my shoulder and let it drop unceremoniously to the ground. I had to play the part that I had chosen for myself. Vaguely, I considered moving again, but the process of recreating a new identity without cause made my face crumple in disdain.
Bringing the coloured pages to the centre of my desk, I re-read every line. The blue sheet was a school-wide invitation to audition for the annual talent show. Calligraphy handwriting danced across the page, providing dates, times, and locations, plus a few ideas on what we would possibly be performing. Many would be singing, dancing, and playing instruments, and I knew someone would attempt a short magic show. I laughed under my breath and flipped the blue sheet underneath the yellow one.
This event I was partially considering. It was an audition for a musical rendition of a classic Mary Poppins song. The play would be put on for the entire city—four shows—at a cost of $8 per ticket. All proceeds would be split 50/50, with half coming back to the school to help pay for the musical programme and the other half going to charity.
Since my near lapse in judgement, my mind has been reeling. The last two days were brutal. The symptoms stemming from the denial of my body's basic desires were steadily worsening. My 'Slime', code name Vibvid-89, consumption was at an all-time high, but still, I couldn't rid myself of the shakes.
I admitted it out loud to my mirror this morning as I dressed to come to school. The words had tumbled out of my shaky mouth and into the world just as the horizon was brightened by the sun. I was afraid.
Afraid to live, afraid to die, afraid to admit this stint without the men I adore had been an abject failure. There had been no development that would aid my cause. I'd always be tied to the Six; I'd always be at their mercy.
In reality, I didn't want to let them go, but they deserved a fighting chance. They deserved the ability to leave and find a woman who could provide them with a family. They deserved normal.
The next few days flew past. I fought with myself, arguing between the talent show and the musical audition. An open audition scared the living crap out of me. Being in that situation would leave me exposed; it would leave me open to someone figuring out who I really am.
Dr. Lori Penn paid more attention to me than I preferred. Her dark, narrow eyes were always fixed in my direction, assessing my every move. I avoided speaking directly with her, despite my love for her class. She caught me just as the day was ending, her dark hair coiffed neatly at the top of her head.
"You are the only student in the class who has not auditioned." Her legs were elegantly crossed as she sat in her rolling office chair. "I don't want to have to fail you, Ivy. You're one of my best students." That was a lie. I am the best student.
Though Dr. Penn had been in the States for years, Her accent was still slightly halted, and she deepened her voice at every vowel in her words.
"I'm still trying to decide," I whispered, glaring around the empty classroom. "It's a big decision to make."
"You are quite shy, Ivy." Her eyes clung to me through the rectangular lenses of the glasses perched on her petite nose. She curled her plump lips inward, crossing her arms. "I feel as though you are not fully present in the class. Are things at home alright?"
"Things at home are fine." My teeth clenched as I answered, tired of the same charade from the instructors.
Are things at home okay? Is there something I can do to help you be more active in the class? Have you considered extracurricular activities? What about clubs? Are you being bullied?
I'd feed them all the same crap. Yes, everything is fine. No, there's nothing you can do. No, I don't want to join your club or your sports team. Were all the other students dealing with this type of pressure?
It was the same every day. The grind was tiring. I really just wanted to be left alone. I needed to be left alone.
"The students say you live by yourself. Is that true?"
"I don't think that's any of your business."
She jolted, appalled. "I worry about your safety."
"You don't have to worry about me, teach. All is good."
"Except your audition."
I couldn't help but to roll my eyes. "I'll audition."
"Yes, you will. It decides your entire grade." She flipped the books on her desk and handed me the yellow flyer. "The Mary Poppins audition is sealed. The Talent Show is not."
I raised an eyebrow, "sealed?"
"It would be you, me and two other judges. The other judges are members of the faculty."
"Who?"
"Mrs. Patrick, you'd know her from the front office, and Dr. Terry Phil, the principal. They will help me make the final decision. Typically, it would be Miss Bellamy from the Orchestra department, but they were swamped with auditions for the Talent Show this year."
"Cameras? Recording?" I took the sheet from her fingers and leaned my hip against her heavy desk. "Nothing?"
"Neither." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "we'd like to keep the lucky girl chosen as Mary Poppins a secret."
I fiddled with the bracelet on my wrist, listening to the tinkering of the charms. My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I considered the offer. No cameras? No recordings? Sealed audition and I get to keep my high A? The opportunity was almost too good to pass up.
"Next audition is after school today." She stood, stacking her papers on her desk with a flourish. "Can I count on you to be there?"
I was going to regret this. I knew I was going to regret this.
"Yeah. I'll see you then."
Hours later, when I walked into the empty theater, regret climbed up my throat. There were my fears again, clouding my brain and making me queasy. I found the reassuring, steady gaze of Dr. Penn as I rounded the dozens of rows of seats to the stairs.
My shoes echoed on the stairs as I climbed them, the tempo half that of my stampeding heart. A single microphone was positioned in the middle, nearly at the front edge of the black stage. I glared across the theater, eyeing the red-cushioned seats before lifting my gaze to the second floor.
Once I was sure there were no other occupants in the theater. I grasped the mic in my hands and nodded to the judges. Dr. Penn reached up, a remote in her hands.
The soft tones of music came through the speaker system. I choose 'It's A Man's Man's Man's World', humming low at the beginning before winding down the lyrics. Butterflies unfurled in my chest as I began to sing. It was the first time in a long time that I'd truly felt free. Everything else fell away, and I belted the song out until tears were streaming down my cheeks.
Each judge was frozen when the last note left my lips. I bowed, offered them a tight smile and hurried out of the theater to my Jeep. When I was safely inside, heading home, I realized that the shaking had stopped — I was functioning mostly normal again.
The singing had saved me.
The singing had made me better.
But It would be the singing that would be my undoing.