The Camera

“Rose James?” he had said.

“Yes?” I responded shakily. I twisted my hands together, waiting for him to tell me my death sentence.

“Here’s the phone.” He handed the phone across the desk, and placed it into my hand. I raised the old gray phone to my ear. A soft voice had whispered, “Congratulations!”

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1. Prolouge

 

 

I’ll always remember the day I got the call. It was in the warm days of September and school had just started. I had already fallen into my regular routine of boredom. I had filled out the form a couple weeks earlier. I hadn’t expected to get anything, I never do. Most other people in my school had also filled out the form, including some teachers. I had heard from a gossip girl that about one hundred thousand people had filled out the slip. Some people in my school had already gotten their rejection calls, and I was just waiting for mine. I didn’t really care, it was just a tv show.

 

I remember when the secretary called my name over the intercom, interrupting my weary thoughts. It scared me a bit, I don’t tend to do anything wrong.

 

“Rose James, please report to the principals office. Rose James, please report to the principals office.”

 

I remember standing up, my legs shaking. I smoothed down my black skirt and walked towards the door. I could feel my peers' eyes watching my every move. My sweaty hands opened the door using the long,, silver handle. I walked down the silent hallways, my boots clacking on the aluminum tiles.

 

I remember entering the principal’s office, my heart pounding. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, as I sat on the antique, leather seats. The old lady behind the counter had peered down at me from her silver, half moon glasses. She had then sat back down in her chair. I had waited about five minutes before I saw our principal Walking out of a door at the side of the counter.

 

“Rose James?” he had asked. I had nodded quietly, to nervous to speak.

 

I remember sitting into another leathery chair, bigger, and more comfortable now. I sat across the principal, the large wooden desk separating us. He looked down at me, his sharp blue eyes penetrating into my brown ones. I waited for him to speak, my foot tapping the floor quickly. We had sat there in complete silence for about three minutes, before I had decided to break the silence by asking why I was there. As I had opened my mouth the phone had rung. He had answered it quickly and mumbled a couple of words, inaudible for me to hear.

 

“Rose James?” he had said.

 

“Yes?” I responded shakily. I twisted my hands together, waiting for him to tell me my death sentence.

 

“Here’s the phone.” He handed the phone across the desk, and placed it into my hand. I raised the old gray phone to my ear. A soft voice had whispered, “Congratulations!”

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