this is my second rough draft for my personal narrative. i decided to start over and tell a different story. i haven't finished it since i just scrapped the previous draft but here's the opening. enjoy!
JUST BECAUSE I’M LOSING
It was her picture, not mine, that flashed up on the screen. I couldn’t see them, but I’m sure that my friends who had come with me started gearing up to comfort me. A double take to the screen confirmed that that long blonde hair was not my normal short brown cut. A balloon began expanding in my throat—I needed to leave. Every face that I saw was cheering—I couldn’t hear them, I couldn’t hear anything, except the balloon echoing my the throb in my chest. I imagine that it was what shell-shock feels like—except my group of friends. Someone landed sharply on my foot just as an elbow jabbed my ribs. Everyone had started jumping out of excitement. Blue vests, blue dresses, blue ties and sweaters. The room looked a turbulent ocean with everyone wearing our school color. Through the sea of people Lisa Castelberry came rushing towards me.
“It should’ve been you,” she started to say. I’m sure she had more to say but I turned away quickly and coldly. Avoiding the emotions seemed like my best option to survive the night.
“Dude, that’s not right. They probably messed up!” A thick hand landed on my shoulder. I could only catch the outline of the face, but I’m sure it was McKay—no one else has hands that big. As much as I wanted it to be true, I knew it wasn’t. There was no way they could’ve put the wrong picture on the screen. And what was I supposed to say to that? Yeah I’m sure it’s a mistake. Let’s just go talk to Mr. Beck and straighten this thing out. Then it’ll all be alright. Then I’ll feel accomplished. Then this balloon will pop. Then I’ll— No. I had lost, Kati Briggs had won. It was over and I needed to leave.
“You should run for Student Body President!” Lisa told me.
My fist went to my mouth to block the swig of chocolate milk I almost sprayed across the table. I swallowed, barely. “You’re crazy, why would I do that?”
“I don’t know, I just think you should. It would be cool. Clay Ellis: Student Body President.”
“It’d be cool but I don’t really want to. Who’s even running?” The sound of the title was enticing. My mind started racing thinking of campaign slogans and button designs.
Cole chimed in, “I heard Kati is.” Cole and I had gone to EFY the summer before.
“Yeah but I don’t want to run against—I work for her mom!” Suddenly the title didn’t sound so good compared with ‘Clay Ellis: jobless.’
“Man you could totally do it. Plus, what do you have to lose?”
McKay’s remark sounded much better months earlier. What do you have to lose? I had lost the election, for starters. My hearing came back to me. They were chanting and cheering for Kati. Somewhere in the wash I could hear a voice yelling my name. I didn’t care to seek out the source. I didn’t care much at all, I headed towards the double doors regretting my decision to run. The hallways were better. They were quiet. Not silent, but better. A single tear blazed a wet trail down the landscape of my cheek. My hand fumbled in my pockets. Instead of plastic casing of my car keys, my fingers brushed against the back of my phone. It was vibrating. I don’t know if it was a reaction built up over the past years or a small hope that it was my mom calling, but I instantly pulled out phone.
A single line text was centered on the screen. “Still want to go to the iPad launch? -N”