Talent Hall -
Chapter 27
“Movie night?” Aiken asks.
I nod. “We thought it’d be a fun way to relax after a long night of watching people perform and performing ourselves.”
“Assuming everything goes according to plan, right?” Lisa glares. “I’m kidding, Lisa. Have some wine and relax.”
“I’m pregnant, dimwit,” she says and crosses her arms, clearly not in the mood for teasing and laughs.
“You can have one glass. As long as it doesn’t turn into seven like the last time,” he says, raising an eyebrow. She covers my eyes and yells about us being kids and not needing to know about that. He rolls his eyes. “Right. I completely forgot about two kids who are allowed to date, but aren’t allowed to hear about effects of over drinking…?”
Blake snickers and shakes his head. “Is it okay or not? Because I want to know if we still have to figure out what movie we want to watch.” Aiken smirks. “Yes, I’m watching a movie too. Is that a problem?”
“I don’t care. I trust the kids. You, not so much, Blake Ryan.”
Blake places a hand over his chest and fake sobs. Aiken’s alarm goes off. He kisses Kayiah’s temple and runs out to the stage with the writing section contestants behind him. Kayiah shakes her at head at the three adults and sits with me, her macbook open. Together, we research new movies that areavailable in movie stores or on Netflix. New movies hit Netflix faster now than they did fifty years ago. We’re hoping we don’t have to go too far to replace the movie we want for tonight. It’s going to be Kayiah, Blake, Lisa, Lia, Kamron, and I. I wanted to invite Jared, but I don’t think having him, Kayiah, and Kamron in the same room together is a good idea. Not yet anyways.
The audience applauds for the return of Aiken and the talent show. He smiles and holds the microphone up. “Welcome back to the Talent Hall Awards of 2095. It’s sad for me to mention this, but we are almost finished. We are currently on our very last section of talent show for the evening and it happens to be writing, a very important skill not many youngsters today like to do. Unfortunately, all we have this year is poetry. We have three young ladies that will read original poems they wrote and explaining what they represent. I’m sure we’re all looking forward to that. Please welcome Eadlyn Steel, Karina Brown, and Mia Jones, all from the same school, Talent Hall located in Miami, Florida.”
I watch as Mia and Karina hold up their cellphone so they can see their poem and Eadlyn holds up a tablet with a golden case. Kayiah scrolls down the list of movies and glimpses at the TV screen even couple of seconds. Lia plays with her hair and grumbles about how jealous she is of Kayiah’s long, soft, and brown hair. Kayiah scoffs and complains about her long, blonde hair. Blake sits down with us and rolls his eyes at the girls and their complaints.
“Eadlyn, when did you grow bond with Poetry?”
“It started when I was a little girl, but I didn’t realize how much writing meant to me until recently. I’m in a Creative Writing class this semester and we’ve been doing a lot of poetry.. I’m sure you know this, but as Seniors, we’re pushed harder than anyone else to choose a career we’re comfortable with for the rest of our lives. That alone makes it hard to sleep. I had already taken writing courses early in my high school life and a journalism class in middle school. When I took those classes, I was afraid of what people would say about writing for a career. It isn’t the ideal career most people look for, but I no longer care for what other people think or have to say about my decision,” she explains. “If I can write for a living, it would be the perfect career for me.”
“So when you say writing for the rest of your life, do you mean poetry, story writing, fanfiction writing, or all of the above?”
“I write all of it. I’ve written over two hundred fanfics, I’m in the middle of an original story now and too many poems to count, but if I have to be honest, poetry helps me deal with stress better than the other types of writing does,” she sighs.
“We value that honesty, Eadlyn. I am glad to hear you would like to use your skills in writing as a career path. I’m sure it brings joy to others too. That means more books. Thank you. What about you, Karina? Would you like to share your story with us?”
“It’s kind of a sad story, but I think you guys have the right to know. When I was twelve, my parents divorced. Then over a couple of weeks, I battledan eating disorder.” The audience pauses and the audience gasps and whisper among themselves. “My depression got a lot worse as well as my anxiety disorder. Then I stopped leaving my room for the most part. Eventually, I found that writing helps me cope with everything. The eating disorder, the voices, the stress… I usually write about the things I’m dealing with. In a story, I can have someone tell one of my characters they matter and don’t need to turn to methods of self-destruction, but in real life, I have a difficult time doing that… I would love to write and help others with their problems too,” she explains.
“First of all, I’m terribly sorry for what you’ve been through, Karina. No one deserves a cruel treatment like those disorders. I have a friend who’s daughter fought similar battles. It isn’t fair and I want you to know I’m here for you.. Do you mind if I ask what… kind of-”
“Bulimia.”
The camera pans at the audience again. Some girls and female adults are tearing up. I’m sure some male members feel bad for her too, but it’s rare that a boy will deal with an eating disorder. Well, not rare, but it’s more common in girls than it is boy. A study showed that years ago. That’s why I stayed silent because I didn’t think anyone would take me seriously. That and Ana scared me.
“Did you agree to do something about it? Your eating disorder and your depression?”
“I see a counselor and she thinks my writing helps me to cope in other ways aside from… you know…”
“I-Yes, I understand. And she is right. It is. I think you would do well as a writer, whether it’s a story or poetry. You could really help people, Karina.”
“That’s what I want.”
“Excellent. I’m glad to hear that. Hang in there, sweetheart. You’re abrave girl. Always remember that.”
The audience applaud softly for her, agreeing with Aiken’s encouraging and ever true words. A little girl even tells her she’s beautiful and it makes her day. She smiles so wide I think her cheeks could burst any second. Lia moves toward me and whispers that I’m not alone either. I nod my head and smile.
Karina steps back and Mia steps forward, clearing her throat.“Writing is my drug,” she says. “I don’t know- I always liked the idea of entering another world on a regular basis. Something about leaving the real world has always been appealing to me. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. It was like watching Alice in Wonderland one minute and then becoming Alice the next. Like a fairy-tale.”
“How would you feel about a career linked with writing?” Aiken asks.
“I would love it,” she beams with excitement, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.
“Beautiful. As usual, good luck, and I’ll let you express your feelings through your writing.”
He goes to the side of the stage and watches Mia step back. Eadlyn steps forward again and taps the screen of her tablet so it turns on. The camera shows the screen, but goes back to her face, deciding to let her do the talking.
“It’s titled Evil Queen.”
Growing up, I always heard tales of the Evil Queen.
And how she is cruel and vicious.
She did this, she did that.
“The Evil Queen is cruel and hates all.”
“She’ll never change.”
“She will never love anyone!”
But no one understands her point of view.
Why she acts the way she acts.
Why she does the things that she does.
No one thinks about why.
As a girl who has been broken for far too long,
I know exactly how she can be cruel.
She was tormented, abused and broken to pieces
Pieces of a shattered mirror.
Those pieces glued back together.
But this time, things will be different.
I once met the evil queen in a mirror.
She reminded me of a girl I once knew.
The old me.
Aiken approaches Eadlyn with the microphone again and stands next to her, tilting it towards her mouth, but a few inches away she she has room to explain her poem without the microphone going down her throat. The audience look keenly interested. I’ll admit, It is an interesting poem. I’m interested in knowing what inspired such art.
Kayiah taps my shoulder and points to a movie titled Stalked By a Fan and gives me a puppy dog face. Blake smirks as I whisper a word. “Perfect. Do we know where it is?”
“Netflix.”
I turn the macbook and read the summary to myself. I replace out it’s basically just what the title implies: A famous vlogger is stalked by a girl after he comes out of a coma. I’m excited for this now. It sounds good.
Aiken clears his throat. “Eadlyn, What inspired such a poem?”
“Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself. People are going to bring you down and try to portray you as the bad guy or evil queen, I should say. And when I that, I’m including myself. I’ve felt like an evil queen before and it’s sad when someone feels that way, but that’s where this poem came from.”
“It is sad and it’s brilliantly written. Of course, I am no judge and can’t score you, but I think it’s beautiful. Well done, Eadlyn.”
There’s another applause. Eadlyn steps back. Karina steps forward and taps on her tablet screen.
“It’s called Imperfect.”
I see a girl in the mirror,
A girl I used to adore.
Someone I loved.
Then Mia came along.
Wrecked her from the inside out.
Made her puke all the time,
And cry at the sight of a scale.
Now when I look in the mirror
All I can see
Is a girl who used to be beautiful
But is now terribly flawed.
If she hadn’t mentioned her eating disorder and depression story and still read the poem, it would be a huge surprise. Not that she shouldn’t explain her story because everyone should, but now I think everyone could have guessed that’s what her poem would be about and it’s totally okay. I tend to write about how I’m feeling and what I’m dealing with as well. Either way, it’s a lot better than any type of poetry I could ever write.
Blake puts his leather jacket on and grabs his wallet. Lisa kisses him . “I guess I’ll go get the snacks and set up the movie and I’ll be back here in time for everyone to throw roses when everyone’s lined up,” Blake says and kisses Lisa one last time. She holds him there and kisses him again.
I roll my eyes. “Let him go set up the movie,” I say. “Goodness.”
They pull away and blush. Blake messes up my hair and is out the door. I smile. Kayiah kisses my cheek and makes me blush again, just to prove something. I think she’s siding against me with Blake and Lisa.
“Amazing. I know you’ve been through so much, but your writing skills are amazing. You really know what you’re doing. Wish you were alive when I needed help on my English homework.” Some light chuckles flow around the room. “Seriously, I like it, but not because I think you’re talented. You were writing about something you’ve been through. Something that shaped you into the amazing human being that you are today. That makes it mean more to me and the judges than you know about, Karina.”
“Thank you,” Karina says.
“Of course. And now, for our final contestant of the evening, Mia Jones,” he says in his announcing voice. They applaud for a minute and then stop. Mia steps up and reads off her poem, the longest poem.
My heart shatters.
Pieces scattered everywhere.
Tears run down my cheeks,
The condition of my soul
Leaking out of my eyes.
I’m on the brink of giving up.
Society has broken me.
Ahh!There’s a pain in my chest.
It’s ice cold like a winter in Russia.
As painful as migraine under bright lights.
I beg God for it to stop.
Instead my tears stop.
The wounds in my heart no longer hurt.
I feel angry and stronger.
I take a deep breath and focus.
A heart made of ice glows above my hand.
My heart is dark and cold.
Black, but covered in ice.
They did this to me.
Transformed my sweet and forgiving heart
Into a cave of hate
With an ice cold temperature.
They’ll pay for this.
I’ll make sure of that.
If it’s the last thing I ever do.
Personally, I feel like her poem is relatable. In my life, I’ve had people shatter me to the point where I go numb and block everything out for a while, but of course, everyone is different. She might have had people break her and turn her ice cold for a while. If that’s true, then I can feel her reasoning for writing the poem and the pain behind it. You can tell it’s based on experience.
“This poem is called Heart of Ice. I actually got the idea from a picture of a book. I think it was Hans Christian Andersen’s Fairytales and the writing process started. Then after I looked at what I had written, I released it was a lot more than that.”
“Can you explain a little more?” Aiken asks.
“Um, there was a point in my life where I had to turn my heart icy and cold so no one could hurt me. It didn’t last long because I had to understand I wasn’t the person I was pretending to be. It was an act to stop my heart from breaking. That’s when I wrote this poem. After many heart breaks, I was angry and felt the need to get revenge, but that changed after the right person told me I need to be myself and not who anyone else wants me to be. This is actually the first poem I ever wrote too.”
“Well, that’s pretty good for your first poem. I’m impressed. Normally the first poem needs work, but to me, yours is perfect. Excellent job, Mia. All three of you girls have done well tonight. I know it’s harder to read things you’ve written, especially if it’s personal, but it seemed like a piece of cake for you girls. I’m sure the audience here and viewers across the globe can all agree, right, guys?”
They all applaud again and then quiet down within thirty five seconds. “Thank you,” the three girls say and then leave as Aiken dismisses them.
The curtains close. We can hear the loudest claps we’ve heard all night. I don’t think they can get any louder. Unless they’re saving the absolute loudest for when they open again and reveal all of us in all of our glory. We’re supposed to go back out in exactly one minute and all stand together. If needed, someone tall can hold someone short on their shoulders or backs if they aren’t too heavy.
We all crowd around Aiken. He smiles at us all and claps. We stand there, confused and wondering why he’s clapping when there’s still a loudly clapping audience right outside.
“You guys did an amazing job tonight. I know a lot of you were nervous and thought you would pass out and possibly die,but you did it and if it were up to me, I would make tiaras for all of you, but I don’t have that kind of power or money. Not yet at least. I’m working on it.” We laugh and thank him for his generous words. “Alright. They’re expecting all of you guys on stage in just thirty short seconds. Just smile pretty and accept the roses.”
We single file make our way towards the stage behind the closed curtain and wait patiently for it to open. Aiken stands next to us with his microphone. We all join hands together and smile once the curtain opens. The audience applauds a lot louder than it did before.
“Amazing,” Aiken says. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Your Majesty, Highness… Loyal subjects, the contestants of Talent Hall, 2095!”
Members of the audience are taking pictures. The flash nearly blinds me. We stand there and allow the excited audience to take pictures and throw roses. Someone folds up a five dollar bill, designing it to look like a plan and throws at my face. I pick it up and blow kisses at the audience.
“If you would like to talk to some of the contestants, I believe they’ll all be here for twenty minutes after the show and then of course, they do have other things to do like dinners, movie dates, catching up on twenty hours of needed sleep… You understand the struggle, I’m sure. Thank you for being such a great audience tonight.”
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