I've never been a fan of graduation days. There's too much exaggerated emotion. Parents shedding prideful tears for their precious children, none of whom are worthy of much pride. Haughty kids believing that walking across that stage somehow magically transforms them into a different, more mature person, cleansed of their youthful mistakes and plunging ahead into some imagined noble future. At each of the previous four graduations I've attended I swear I broke a record for eye rolls.
Today is different though. It's my last graduation. After this, I'm done. Forever. No more endless lectures. No more pretentious professors. No more cafeteria food. Best of all, no more badgering parents expecting me to be something I'm not. Now I'm listening to Dean Glendor read the names of the graduates one by one, each one felt like a drop of sand falling into the bottom of an hourglass that would set me free when my name was called and the final grain joined the rest.
"Ava Harding", the dean calls out on the gaudily decorated, oversized stage.
The name is met as every other name was, with a muted applause that seemed to celebrate another name being crossed off the list more than the students accomplishment. Occasionally an overzealous parent would embarrass their child by making a racket after their name but they were few and far between. I hope to god my parents don't do that. They haven't before, but to them this is the biggest moment of their lives.
My parents guilt tripped me through twenty years of an education I never really wanted. I had been deemed "naturally gifted" at a young age, though to this day what qualified me I don't quite know. I think I passed some standardized test. I can even remember a time when I enjoyed the classroom. I was put into The Academy along with the brightest kids in our region, all of whom came from families of lawyers, doctors, professors, and most of all, wealth. At first I was too young to notice how different I was from the rest of the students. My father was in local sanitation and my mother worked in our block's daycare center that watched the young kids in our neighborhood. I look back now and finally understand the glimmer of hope that shone in my parents eyes on the day they dropped me off at school 200 miles away in the Capitol. I was always their ticket to a better life for our family line. Now, in their minds, I was finally cashing that in.
A breathy whisper snaps me out of my self pity. "Victor.." the voice calls again, this time joined by a light elbow jab. I turn to look at Fitz, the only friend I had made in my twenty years at The Academy. He was tall with light brown hair trimmed neatly in the standard haircut of the Academy. Fitz looks like most of the other students I had lived with in the private boarding school, but if he walked around my family's neighborhood he would look like a movie star. His bright blue eyes and muscular frame blend right in. His only saving grace is his personality. In a sea of arrogant assholes, he was the only one with an ounce of humility or compassion.
"Liam Glaston" the dean says.
"You ready for this?" Fitz asks, almost giddy with excitement. "Twenty years all leading to this." I swallow a gag. His unbridled optimism is his biggest, maybe only flaw.
"I'm ready to be done" I say with all seriousness.
"That eager to be a glorified babysitter?" He shakes his head eyeing my forest green jumpsuit. The same as his only attached to mine is a small, meager insignia that signifies my future place of employment, Citizen Enforcement, the lowest rung in the Department of Compliance. He looks pridefully at his insignia, the large Golden Ring surrounding a golden eye that identified his placement in the department's prestigious surveillance branch. He struggled to understand my happiness at being placed in the veritable trash heap of academy graduates, and I think he's also a little disappointed that we'll no longer see each other every day, though he won't admit it.
"Thank you for your concern but the citizens won't enforce themselves" I joke. Everyone seems to think I should feel ashamed of my placement. Everyone except my parents, but to them any position with the Central Authority is worthwhile. To my classmates, my position as a security guard at the local amusement park is as good as a death sentence. To me it's an easy gig that satisfies my family enough to get them off of my back once and for all. I don't need the money a high end placement would provide, my salary will still be more than what my parents make combined, all for wrangling the occasional teenager.
"Cassius Illiman" comes the call from the stage.
I watch as the most pretentious of my classmates glides up the stairs to receive his certificate of completion. Similar to Fitz, we'd been in the same program since we were four years old. His father was the director of the Department of Compliance, and technically my new boss. But Cassius wore the purple jumpsuit of the Department of Governance and would be involved in the establishment of new laws, no doubt influenced by his father.
"At least you'll be rid of him" Fitz says.
"You've got that right" I reply as I stare daggers through Cassius while he shakes the dean's hand and proceeds across the stage under the enormous banners, one for each of the Central Authorities four departments. Two on either side of the golden flag of the Authority itself. Green for Compliance, purple for Governance, blue for Knowledge and Orange for Logistics. Most of the graduates would be wearing green or orange, the two largest departments by far.
I adjust myself in my chair and feel my heart rate increase ever so slightly. I know how the alphabet works. Only three more names. I struggle to contain my excitement, or is it anxiety? It seems to take forever but with each name called my pulse quickens until it feels like I'm in the middle of PT again. At last the clapping fades and the dean reads the next name on her list.
"Victor. Jackson." The words seem to tumble slowly out of the speakers rolling over the graduates and into the crowd of bored guests behind us. I stand quickly. Too quickly, I feel light headed all of a sudden. I take a deep breath and close my eyes trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. That helped, a little. I make my way towards the stage trying to focus on each step as I continue to feel less and less like myself. Luckily it's a short walk to the small set of stairs to get onto the stage. What is happening? Surely I'm not that nervous about graduating?
I can hear the muffled sound of the claps pattering on in the distance but they seem a mile away. I manage to climb the stairs and proceed under the glare of the stage lights and the banners up to the dean. My vision is becoming spotty and my heart is pounding out of my chest. Is this a panic attack? What is wrong with me?!?
I grab the paper certificate and try to smile while I shake her hand. Her face reveals a hint of disgust as she pulls back her hand and wipes it on her blue jumpsuit. I do my best to brush off the embarrassment i feel and move towards the other end of the stage. Time seems to be standing still and with each passing moment I feel more and more like I'm losing control. The sound of the clapping seems as if its a mile away and a blackness is creeping into the edge of my vision. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face as I pass the professors seated on stage and can sense them judging me, just as they did throughout my time at The Academy.It feels like I've been walking for minutes but I know it's been only seconds. Who the hell made this stage so big?
Miraculously I reach the edge of the stage and cling to the steel handrail for dear life. Behind me I can hear the dean continuing to read off names. I guess whatever is happening isn't that noticeable. Thank god, the last thing I need is to cause a scene and make this day drag on any longer.
My vision is continuing to blur but my eyes are able to make out the crumpled certificate in my right hand. How is a piece of paper the only thing we receive after twenty years? I shake my head, that's the least of my problems, I need to focus. But I can't. My heart is pounding and my mind is racing, trying desperately to figure out what is happening to my body. I feel completely lucid. It feels like my brain and body are operating completely independently as my vision continues to constrict and crippling vertigo begins to set in.
I realize I'm now at the bottom of the stairs standing at the edge of the stage. I don't know how I managed to navigate the steps but here I am, out of view of the crowd but virtually unable to move.
"Victor!" I hear someone call, and I swear its Fitz's voice. "What's wrong?!?"
I see a figure rushing towards me. I can't see any details but I know it must be him. Thank god, I need help. I try to answer but my mouth feels like its full of sand and I feel myself begin to sway.
"Why hasn't anyone called a doctor?!?" a woman's voice asks, incredulous. I don't think I recognize that voice. Who is that? Mom?
Its the last thought that passes through my mind as I fall to the ground and the world goes completely black.