The Elephant in the Room by Erin C.
I stared into my reflection in the shiny mirror and closely inspected my facial features. My brows furrowed slightly as I noticed a red pimple smack in the middle of my forehead. Grimacing, I tried to shake it off and get back to the task at hand— practicing my student council speech. Election Day was coming up in a couple days, and I had started practicing my speech in the mirror.
I exhaled a long and deep breath, and for the hundredth time, I went through the first paragraph in my head and checked my script to make sure I had it memorized right. As I opened my mouth, ready to practice, the possibilities of the reactions of the expecting audience hit me in full and flooded my head with the sound of rowdy, impatient teens.
My school was well known in the neighborhood for pretentious drama queens and rowdy jocks. The student council speeches were just a concept in name and word only; the elections were biased and the student council members disrespected and called names. I was mainly running in the hopes of showing those bullies how stupid they had been to make all my friends feel horrible. I had made the decision on a whim, stupidly believing I could change the council and teachers this year to be more proactive, but now I was feeling a little hopeless. Days ago I had imagined cheering crowds, beaming friends, and supportive teachers clapping while I walked off the stage with an accomplished grin, confident that my speech was powerful and that I would win. Now, however, another possibility had arisen.
The speed of gossip spread like a massive oil fire aided by high wind speeds in a dry, brittle area, which flew through entire forests and destroyed things faster than one could realize what was happening. The popular drama girls rode on these winds, buzzing around like annoying little mosquitoes and helping spread the flames. I could hear them in my head, laughing and snickering at me as I walked away, focusing their beady little eyes on me, pointing sharp, stabbing fingers, and “whispering”. Instead of cheering, they would boo and compel others to do the same, because no one wants to get on the wrong end of a mosquito. To them, I was the elephant in the room, the weird one who did not fit into their expectations at all. I literally was an elephant, my chunky figure stumbling forward, trunk dangling awkwardly, shutting my ear flaps tight as I tried to get past the crowds of mosquitoes and mosquito-infected creatures.
Would this even work? What was I thinking?
With a start, I realized I had been staring at myself in the mirror again. No, no, I told myself, shaking my head a little. I have to at least try, for my friends, right?
I gritted my teeth and stared at my own face, with all its awkward and irregular elephant features.