The Mental Fighter

I never knew I would make such a terrible decision. It wasn't my proudest moment of my life, but just a portion wouldn't do it justice. Well, I might as well tell you the whole story.

I was young and naive. My higher education in accounting was in progress. My female peers gushed over my chestnut locks and sparkling emerald eyes. I was irresistible, at least, for a time. That was until my inevitable downfall.

It was the end of my third year, and my abilities were undefeated. A few scholars, including myself, were on our path to showcase our skill. The overall trip included a terribly long bus drive, another college, and a glaringly loud timer. We were expected to complete a multitude of tasks within a set time.

"Good afternoon students," the moderator boomed. "Your tasks will be assigned shortly. In the meantime, converse with your peers." Our competitors scrambled to produce their plan of action. My team members decided the more logical course was to keep our voices low.

"Why don't we split them evenly?" one asked.

"We should split them based on skill," another answered. Two more members nodded in agreement. As the discussion of the other team came to a close, assistants stalked down to the tables with our tasks. Before the packets could touch the tables, they were snatched by a team member. We rushed to distribute our packets.

Glancing over my primary packet, a glimmer catches my eye. Attempting to not get distracted, I shake my head and keep my eyes on my packet. I manage to complete a few questions before a blindingly shiny object catches my attention. Upon closer inspection, a realization strikes that the object in question happens to be a phone.

"Do you see that?" I ask the member beside me. They follow my line of sight and spot the cellular device.

"What do you think we should do?" they question.

"We should do something similar," I whisper back. My ally shoots me a terrified look, scrunching their brows in horror.

"What?" I question. "If they can do it, so can we!" They shrugged, surely giving up to return to their packets. I grasp at my device, hoping no one spotted it.

Opening the apps, I check my surroundings in case of extra surveillance. With a lack of rising suspicion, I proceed to open my advanced calculator. The calculator in hand, the questions ease into simplicity. To ensure my use of assistance goes undetected, I must constantly keep an eye out.* 

I happen to finish all but one of my packets as the timer chimes. We pass our work to the judges to be graded. Shoving my phone in a jacket pocket, I pray no one saw it.

"Alright students," the moderator shouts. "I have an announcement to make. One of the judges spotted something awfully peculiar during your working period." I gulped, my lunch hopping around in my stomach.

"Oh my god, they know," I thought. As if by some outside force, my seat began to push me away. My thighs grasped onto the seat, not appreciating my readjustments.

"One noticed a cellular device in use," continued the moderator. "Be honest and come forward if it was you." A member of the opposing team stood, one after another, until two out of the twelve members remained.

"Neither of us did anything wrong," one stated. The other nodded, closing their eyes entirely.

"Alright," muttered the moderator. "Since they used a device, the whole team is disqualified. The team from Dallas wins by reason of disqualification." My team cheers and high fives in celebration. We've been working our tails off just to get here.

"Go home, get some rest, and we will see you soon," the lead judge said. My team and I eagerly ran back to the bus. Clambering onto the bus, we begin to settle for the long trip home.

"Y'all, we need to talk," shouted our teacher. Silence overcomes us as we attend to listening. My chest tightens, squeezing my pounding heart. In doing so, my chest forces my heart to beat in my ears.

"Did any of you happen to see the other team use their phones?" our teacher questions. Four hands, including my own, are raised to be presented. Our teacher nods before scribbling something on their notepad. They stumble into a seat and grab their phone.

"Why do you think they asked us that?" another student asks me quietly. All I could give them was a shrug, and that would have to suffice. My stomach continued to rumble and shake violently. The body I obtained at birth proceeds with its assault using guilt. Face burning and arms surrounded by ice, I force myself to stare out the window.

When we arrive in Dallas, we gather our items and wait for our rides. We all stand or sit outside, no one making a peep. I text my twin sister, so she can drive back to the dorms.

"How did it go?" she asks when I get in.

"We won," I answered.

"That's great!" she cheered as we screeched to a stop at a red light.

"We only won because the other team used their phones," I mentioned.

"Oh well," she sighs. "At least you won." For a while, we sit in absolute silence.

"I'll need to email the professor," I tell, breaking the uncomfortable confines of the lack of noise. My sister nods, not wanting to talk to me. I turn to face the window, and tears rush to my eyelashes. Comfort is found through listening to the radio static with closed eyes.

Once we arrive at the dorms, I grab my satchel and rush to the solemn room I call my own. Jumping onto the freezing bed, I remove my phone from my jacket pocket. I unlock the device and gain some composure. I open the emails and pour the details of my crime into an email.

Upon finishing my email and sending it, I set my phone aside. I slam my face onto my pillow and quietly sob. My career came to an end, and I've been paying the price ever since.

*Keeping an eye out for Selener.