Lackluster

My stomach turns. Like little flies all buzzing around the screen, a room mostly empty is top heavy with girls. All staring dumbly at a screen, we squeeze together to fit in a tiny space. Elbows to elbows, I am violated the second I walk into the door, late as usually to all things student-inspired.

In fact, attending this breaks my resolution to never come to events which I am sure will include standing on tables and screaming. But as I walk up to class from my house I find the place silent, as expected. That caravan plaza is dead empty, despite being 5 minutes late for class. So I too am sucked into that room, the large video room to the side of the plaza.

On the screen our teacher is turning colors. A special effect once saved for films from my childhood now comes built in to every camera on the market. We are then revealed the point of the film- color war. A signature at camp, color war is basically the definition of those things I find appalling at seminary - standing on tables and screaming, as listed above in the "thing I avoid" section. My already dissillusioned face turns to lackluster.

My stomach sinks when the video turns to an annoucement of the "heads" of each class. When Chul Aleph (my class) comes up, I can almost hear out loud my constant whisper, "don't be me. don't be me..." It's me. Almost sweating from my sense of panic, I kindly ask the girl behind me to just leave the door open. Fresh air? Maybe. But easy escape is more like it.

Decidedly against this position, I am wording how I will break the news to my class. Appoint another girl? Just not come? . . . As I am thinking to myself the cleanest escape, wandering not-so-slowly back to my caravan, I am constantly bombarded with congratulations. A little peice of my resistence taken away with each simle from another girl, I begin to realize that yes, I will be the head and yes, I can't run away. But my face is still lackluster.

(Note: Color war is today, so I will post about the turnout.)