The Score

"Jim? Jim Smith? Ralph? Ralph....Ralph...Nug-Yen? Beth?" I wanted him to just tell us all that we were going to be O.K.  I wanted to jump out of my cheap plastic seat and punch someone. Just nail them and watch the blood from the rest of my body rush to my fist. I was consumed with anticipation. This score meant the entire world to me in the endless five minutes I was waiting for it. Your entire village has ebola? You just found out your dad is a serial killer? You think you have it tough? You don't have to take this class.

"Daniel?" My ticking foot rested and flew off of my knee as I asked "Bothwell?" He nodded and I made my way toward the paper that was going to either ruin me or make me. Shit he folded it; I thought to myself. When someone folds you a piece of paper with an important grade on it, it usually means that important grade is a piece of shit. Pieces of shit are bad, I didn't want a piece of shit. I felt doomed.

I uncurled the paper and looked at the score. Fifty...fifty points out of a god awful one hundred. I turned and asked him what the mean was. Had I beaten the rest? Fifty one, a god awful fifty one. I was ecstatic. I felt like I had just survived one of Jigsaw's contraptions in those Saw movies. I was so glad I had cut my leg off in time for me to be saved. I was so glad that I had ripped that key out of that woman's living stomach before the timer went off. I was so glad I was walking out of that empty warehouse breathing. I might have been bloody and fucked up, but at least I wasn't one of those poor bastards laying in a pool of blood on the floor inside.

I felt like I was floating to my car. The mountains, the women, the sky; they all seemed to be saying "Climb me! Fuck me! Fly through me!" Who knew that mediocrity could feel so damn good. I had survived, and we forget that that means something. Today I was valiant, and maybe I will be in future days too, but I cant promise anything. So I come home and treat myself, for who knows what tomorrow will bring.