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Running For Class President (& a Bombshell Announcement Made by Your Opponent)

Categories: Creative Writing Prompts Tags: creative writing exercises, creative writing prompts, writing prompt.

You decide to run for president of your high school class only to find that your opponent is running a smear campaign about you. Worse yet, your opponent has been telling everyone that he/she will drop a bombshell announcement in front of the entire school during your first debate. The debate is here. Write the scene where the bombshell is announced and describe how you react to it—remember, the entire school is watching.

Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

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33 Responses to Running For Class President (& a Bombshell Announcement Made by Your Opponent)

  1. euphoricerk says:

    So today is the big day of the election! I can hardly wait, but something my opponent said to me the day before has had me worrying all day… Evidently she has dug up some dirt on me; what really has me worried is that I have absolutely no idea what it could be. I have always tried to lead a good and honest life; so the fact that someone has information on me that I don’t even know is really freaking me out. But now as I approach the stage my opponents’ devious smile has me literally shaking in my boots. As we begin the debate we both spew trash at each other while at the same time convince the student class that we are good moral people. But as we talk trash it starts to become more hateful, until my opponent lets go of her bomb shell.
    “I have some troubling news,” she shouted, “Look at the facts; he has never had a serious and steady relationship and is always hanging out with other men, one of which I know to be a homosexual!”
    That was it? That was the troubling news that had me up all night? At first I thought it to be a joke, but as she continued I realized she was being serious!
    She continued, “I have even heard rumors of him sleeping over at his gay friends’ house!”
    “Wow!” That was all I could muster to say. I know my blank stare at her was more of an argument than I needed, but after the shock wore off I continued “So what if I am? I’m not but would it really matter if I was?” I replied. “Yes my friend is gay, and yes I have spent the night at his home before, but that is because he is my friend. Unlike my opponent I don’t believe someone should be ridiculed just because of their sexual preference! I would rather live in a society that prefers someone to be themselves then conform so they don’t feel scorned.”
    After that I just walked off the stage because I lost any interest in what she had to say. She tried to stumble through the rest of her speech but she must have been distracted by the majority of the student body following me. We meandered back to our classrooms and voted for who we believed would be a better student president, and to no ones surprise I won with a good majority of the votes. The only thing that still bugs me is that she still managed to rake in about 20% of the votes; hopefully the next generation will not be so cynical.

  2. binghams04 says:

    The final debate had begun. We were seated in the auditorium of Winnacunnet High School in New Hampshire. The room was partly filled, dimly lit, and quiet. Many of the senior class members weren’t interested in politics. They could care less who won this election. The election was important to me. I had never run for an office before this election. I wanted to make a difference and improve the school.
    Shelley Baker, my opponent, was standing up at the podium. She had followed the example of many of the U.S. Presidential campaigns. She had run a smear campaign. Tonight, she planned to drop a bombshell but I figured most of the voters had already made their decision and wouldn’t change it. “Fellow classmates, I have something to share with you about Sylvia that you might not know.” Then, she paused for several seconds. What could she possibly know about me that would harm me in the election? “Sylvia believes in ghosts, angels, and all kinds of whacky paranormal stuff! She’s a crackpot. She should see a shrink.”
    I could feel my whole body heating up and turning pink. It seemed like I could hear everyone talking at one time. My stomach was churning. I felt blood on my tongue from biting my cheek. I don’t know why I felt so embarrassed. I did believe in the paranormal but I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I guess it was the way she said it which was as if we still lived in the dark ages or the time of the witch trials.
    “I do believe in the paranormal and so do tons of people. It’s nothing to be ashamed of and no reason to freak out. Shelley, I see your grandmother, Jane, next to you. She says she is disappointed at the way you have run this campaign.”
    Shelley yelled, “YOU LIAR”.
    “She is tall and she has long, black hair and light blue eyes. Her nickname for you was pumpkin. Are you okay? You look kind of green.”
    My opponent went running out of the auditorium. I didn’t mean to upset her. The debate was over. The room was buzzing with conversations. I wasn’t sure how to react I left the auditorium inconspicuously.
    The next day at school, I noticed several people ogling me. I smiled and waved at them. At lunch, several classmates came up to me to ask me about the paranormal.
    “Can you really see dead people?”
    “Who is around me?”
    “Are there really ghosts?”
    “Will you come to my party and give readings?”
    Over the next few weeks, I answered their questions to the best of my ability. I found more interest from my classmates about the paranormal than for the school elections. I was quickly becoming one of the most popular “attractions” at school.
    Win or lose, I had learned to turn the negative into a positive. Also, I knew I would continue to run for more elections in the future.

  3. Beth-is-the-one says:

    Ever since i began attending Weller-strong High school as a freshman i had been a marvelous student. I had a 4.0 GPA and was on the list of High Honors Students. There was something in me that drove me to do well, yet i was always second-best.

    Denise Monroe was beautiful, talented, athletic, and intelligent. She some how managed to out-shine me in everything. Unfortunately, i can’t even have the satisfaction of saying that she was an awful human being. She wasn’t. In fact, she was one of the sweetest girls to walk the halls of Weller-Strong high.

    As much as i admired Denise, I couldn’t stifle my resentment. One can only stand to be in the shadow of another for so long. So when i found out that Denise was running for class president, i knew i had to run. This was our senior year, and i saw the election as my one and only chance to prove myself.

    The first and second debates were simple. The questions were easy to answer and no one made any damaging mistakes. I felt confident, and i was looking forward to the final debate. I wasn’t worried at all until rumors began spreading that Denise had found out something about me. Something that would be a huge detriment to my campaign.

    Impudent sneers and whispers from Denise’s close friends had my heart racing as we entered the gymnasium for the final debate. As Denise and i took our places on the stage, the moderator motioned to Denise. “You’re first, Miss Monroe.”

    “Thank You, Mr. Crammer.” She said sweetly. “I would first like to point out that my opponent is a truly wonderful person. I’ve had the pleasure of being good friends with her for a few years now” She looked at me and smiled. I nodded back at her.

    “However, she continued. I have doubts that Eva would make a good Class President.”

    Here we go. i thought as my stomach clenched in a knot.

    Over the past 2 years, she has missed a considerable amount of school days. Regardless of other attributes, someone who has an attendance record as poor as Eva does, simply cannot be a suitable Class President.

    Mr. Crammer looked at me. “You’re two-minute rebuttal, Miss Dawson?”

    “Yes. Thank you.” i said. “What Denise has stated is absolutely correct.”

    Sweat beaded on my forehead as i thought of what to say. It was time to come clean.

    “The reason i have been absent so many days is because 2 years ago, i was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

    The entire student body gasped in unison. My eyes welled with tears as i tried to explain.

    “I’m sorry i failed to reveal the diagnoses. If you can forgive me, i know that i will make a fantastic Class President.”

  4. Gianni Beau says:

    I noticed that there were fewer submissions this time.

    I found the topic difficult to think about after
    this political season, let alone read the submissions.

    I congratulate all those who submitted something and
    those who read them.

  5. Hillary says:

    Attempted Slander
    By: Hillary Woodward
    I gripped the wooden podium with clammy palms and white knuckles. The debate that I had been waiting for finally arrived. I wouldn’t have been so nervous if I hadn’t heard that my opponent, Charlie Charles, had some juicy gossip about me that he intended to reveal to the entire school.
    I tried for days trying to think what brand of humiliation was lurking in the depths of his sour soul. Had he taken pictures of me wearing that humiliating sailor suit my Grandma Margie sent me for Christmas? Did he possibly know that sometimes I play with my sister’s dolls when no one is looking? What if it is worse than that? What if he means to ruin my name in this school? He must know that I stole the answer sheet to my political science final last semester! Oh gosh! I’ll never be able to show my face in this school again. There are so many humiliating things he could bring up, I’d rather crawl under my podium and die than go through this debate.
    Charlie Charles peered over the audience with his mousy eyes and pulled his dry lips over his yellow teeth in a sneer only expected to be seen in nightmares. Charlie paused for a second, gathering his thoughts before the slander started pouring from his garlic scented mouth. “Now, my fellow classmates let me get to the part I know most everyone is looking forward to. I have some dirt on my opponent, Garrison Dekker.”
    Oh God, here it comes! I cringed and waited for the painful blow to be dealt. Charlie continued, “I have it on highest authority that our dear friend Garrison was indeed the one who pulled the fire alarm that fateful day last year and disrupted respectful student activities for the entire day.”
    The entire student body looked at Charlie like a deer in oncoming traffic. That was it? A lousy fire alarm pull? I always assumed that everyone knew that. Soon the stupefying fog lifted from the audience as they realized I was the one who ended the school day early. Cheering began slowly at first, but soon it spread across the spectators.
    I was worried about that? Slowly, I began to relax as the school looked up to me as if I was a war hero. I delivered them from the icy grips of their algebra class, and freed them to leave school to ride bikes, dance down the street, and enjoy their fleeting lives! Charlie really just signed his own death warrant with that ‘juicy’ bit of information. Peering over my shoulder at him, I returned his icy glare and let the class or 2013 embrace me.

  6. ceexerror_ says:

    In my world, as being Jessica Sanchez it’s hard. I come from a White-Hispanic background and all I wanted to do was show my class that it’s easy to have fun in school, do the right things, and avoid peer pressure. Everyone is telling me that if I become president for the Junior Class, taking the place of the one who was placed down, then everything will be more than better. School will be easier, and people will smile more. But the catch is there’s a Jessica Stanly who is trying her hardest to do everything except allowing me to win.

    Jessica Stanly can pull every boy, flirt with any male teacher (even Mr. Briggs and he’s blacker than his hometown Compton), and has straight A’s while attending every single party. Don’t get me wrong, that sounds like the life, but mi Madre y Padre would be more than mad. It was hard when we were coming to America, and it took a lot of effort to know a lot of English, so I hope my class votes for me and understand that I had to overcome low self- esteem beforehand. However, yesterday would’ve been the hardest day of all election days, and I really don’t want anyone to misjudge or not consider me because I’ve been doing all that I can.

    Yesterday at lunch, we were both asked by all the kids whose votes matter, to speak. Yes, there was a moderator asking questions. But when things got tight she just had to give the utmost lie.

    Moderator: “Miss. Stanly, can you tell your view of the opposing candidate? How do you feel she will do?”

    Jessica Stanly: “Jessica Sanchez is the harshest person. She is a Hispanic don’t you see her burgundy lipstick and golden curly hair? She talks with an accent, but tries to blend with the Americans. Her world revolves around shoot outs, and must I say her uncle hosted one last night around 2:45 on the southern end of Ridgeway. I know it was her uncle because he spray painted ‘Sanchez Family’ on the building when he was finished. We all know, Vario, her uncle, because he was caught on camera and he even dropped her to school in his Chevy, which blasts the worse music and quote ‘sits high’. Now, I feel that she is trying to turn our school into a rubbish zone. Turn our school into Hispaniola. It’s not fair, now is it?”

    When those words came out of her mouth, my body was colder than stone. I wished more than anything if the school or the moderator could have escorted her to Death’s lounge for me, because it was harsh that she did it. But, overall I just have to live with it, and pray tomorrow when the ballots are handed out that I can still become president. If I lose, the school accepts a liar as their president and that they all turn their heads to me for help.

  7. Dana Lee says:

    Kimberly and I were in a debate about what we would do for our class and the school if elected Class President.
    The moderator announced the last question, “Why should you be elected over your opponent? Kimberly may go first.”

    Kimberly began her talk by saying that guys were not aware of the problems that confronted the girls. Kimberly would be a better candidate because she had more experience by being on the school newspaper staff where she wrote stories about boys and girls in school.

    Kimberly then said, “I have a serious comment to make toward my opponent. My friend saw David in a bridal shop a few months ago trying on dresses.” A hush fell as she continued, “He was with another girl and was trying on bridesmaid’s dresses. We don’t need a person who likes to put on dresses as Class President.”

    The moderator said, “David. You have three minutes for your response.”

    The auditorium was quiet except for a few groans and giggles. I got up and approached the podium. I stood there for a moment looking at my class.

    I replied, “There is an Indian saying, “Do not judge a person until you have walked a mile in their moccasins.” It is true. I put on a dress but what your friend did not know is why.” I paused. “I was with was my cousin who was getting married. Her sister was to be a bridesmaid. A month before the wedding she was in a terrible accident. She is still in the hospital. We could not postpone the wedding. I was the only person that was not in the wedding and she asked if I would take Sara’s place as a bridesmaid. It took a lot of thought before agreeing.
    My cousin wanted only girls on her side so I needed to have hair extensions put in as well as wearing a strapless bra and high heels. I had three fittings wearing Sara’s bridesmaid dress and attended the rehearsal dinner wearing a skirt. After the rehearsal we went to the hospital to see Sara. The day of the wedding I had my hair, nails, and makeup done at the beauty salon while dressed in Sara’s gown.”

    “Guys don’t put on bridesmaid’s dresses. After being a “girl for a day” I feel enriched by the experience. I was able to experience what most boys will never know, that is the world of a woman. I was pampered and treated very well during my transformation. I was able to feel the closeness of girls and how they expressed their feelings towards each other. We have closeness on sports teams but it does not compare to that of a woman. They are truly sincere about each other and really care. From this experience I know more about what it takes to be a woman than Kimberly knows about being a man.”

    PS I won the election.

  8. Vanleraywi says:

    I had never been one for sweating, but I was sure that at the time I stood up to the microphone, I could have flooded (and collapsing) the Roman aqueducts. Who wouldn’t be nervous in a situation like this? You would have to be a lunatic to not care. You would have to be James not to care.

    James, my highly Antiperspirated opponent, sat very calmly on the stool to his microphone. His legs crossed, he held his notes in his hands, and continued to discuss lack of respect around the school. I could feel my eyes glaze over, just hearing the nonsense. Personally, I completely agreed; students have an enormous lack of respect for teachers. But to actually put clubs, and fun extra-curricular’s in to place, you have to win. And you can’t win by talking about.

    “And now we have what you all have been waiting for, we have,” James’s booming, triumphant voice said…

    And now we have the ‘bombshell’, according to his poorly designed flyers taped to every wall on the school. The thing he had promised would ruin my school “rep”. He set up some type of power point, for the following two minutes, where we all sat idly by.

    “Okay,” James said, “If this were to be shown on the internet, or Facebook, it would completely ruin anyone’s reputation. Fortunately I was able to snag this video from one of the bathroom camera’s.”

    In his drawling, deep voice, our principal tilted his head, “James… Do we really want to see this?”

    “Oh yeah,” James said, as he flipped on the video. The whole group of two thousand began laughing, as the sweat pooled in the Mediterranean, making water levels rise, and flooding nearby coastal cities. The laughs quickly turned into winces, and many sheltered heads. I had to admit, I never knew I looked so stupid when I masturbate. I’m sure my face was a look of horror from the audiences point of view.

    What’s good about high school, is that crazy stuff is always going on. It didn’t take long for James to be caught taking a dump in the urinal, as part of a dare.

  9. cevans1066 says:

    I can’t believe the little dweeb had the nerve to come up to me at lunch. He marched right over to our table and looked right at me and cleared his throat, “I just want you to know I’m going to share your secret to the whole school when we have our debate this afternoon.”

    “What are you talking about, Lewis?”

    He just turned and walked away. This guy was really starting to irritate me. Why was he even running for Student Council President? He couldn’t hope to beat me. I has been on the council for the past two years. I had the football, basketball, and baseball players sewn up. My girlfriend had the cheerleaders, and the pom-poms voting for me. My little sister corralled the band, the choir, and the drama people. I had built a grand coalition. This election was the last prize my college applications needed and I was going to win.
    My buddies at the lunch table took the opportunity to use Lewis’s declaration to taunt me.

    “What’s this big secret? ”

    “Did your dad vote for Obama? ”

    “Is Lewis your lover?”

    “Is Lewis getting with your mom?”

    I said, “Shut up” and they did.

    We stood on the stage in the auditorium behind wooden podiums. I had given a fine opening speech. Dry, no specifics, I just gave the assembled electorate snippets of my achievements thus far. Lewis though, he stumbled through his introduction. There may have even been some giggling coming from the audience. He looked flustered and I started to feel a little sorry for him. Staring out into the crowd, he seemed to catch his wind and looked right at me.

    Leaning into the microphone my opponent said, “Zach was not born here in the United States – he was born in Kenya”

    The audience, that had only been halfway paying attention, all were now looking back and forth between me and Lewis.

    “He told me himself, when we were kids. Zach is not a natural citizen. Isn’t that right, Zach?”

    I actually heard a gasp from the crowd. Idiots.

    “Uh, that is right, Lewis. My parents were in the Peace Corps. I was born in Nairobi.”
    “So you admit it?”
    “First of all, it’s not a secret. A lot of people know that about me. Second, and more important, It doesn’t matter.”

    Lewis jumped in, “I pretty sure it’s in the Constitution. That makes it matter.”

    “The constitution doesn’t matter. This is a student council election.”

    He smiled and pounced. “Did I just hear you correctly? Did you just say the constitution didn’t matter?”
    I could see confusion and hostility in the faces in the crowd. Lewis piled on some more, “Our Constitution may not mean much to a foreigner, Sir, but it means a great deal to Americans.” Lewis had turned into Daniel Webster.

    He took that moment to just walk off the stage. Once behind the curtain he looked over his shoulder and winked at me.

    I don’t know why he was so smug. He had managed to overestimate and underestimate the voters at the same time. I won in a landslide.

  10. Chrisgiraffe says:

    My opponent, Andrew, dropped the bomb: “Chris ATE Mr. Gibbles!”

    There was an immediate flurry of talk amid the student body.

    “Do you deny it?” he railed.

    The auditorium went quiet.

    “It’s true.” I said, with my head low.

    “Shoot him!” a kid yelled out, which started an uproar that had to be calmed by Principal Johnson.

    “Now everybody, calm down. Let’s try to get the bigger picture.” Johnson said. He turned to me. “Why did you eat Mr. Gibbles?”

    “I didn’t realize he was spoken for.” I said.

    “Liar!” a girl shouted out.

    “No, seriously. I missed the meeting on Thursday in the alley.”

    “Is that true? did anyone see Chris at the meeting?” he asked the crowd.

    No one could deny it.

    “Alright, alright. it was a mistake. All zombies make them, but I’m afraid you are disqualified from running for student body president.”

    My opponent clapped his hands.

    “On the other hand, no zombie likes a tattle tale!” The president gave the signal and the zombie student body populace came at Andrew with full force. He fought and screamed but was quickly torn to bits.

    A new election would be held but first, we left for the town to feed on the non-zombie populace and I never missed a meeting or ate someone else’s human again.

    • Chrisgiraffe says:

      The zombies got Andrew and then bad editing (or should I say, non-editing) came and ate my zombie body. Did anyone win in the great zombie student body election of 2012?

  11. Chrisgiraffe says:

    My opponent told me he’d had something on me that would level my campaign. He’d already made several thinly veiled insults against my country but that wasn’t anything to offend me- a lot of people have time accepting other cultures and I was the newbie from a far away land. I was still jazzed to be running for president of something. My parents were so proud they told the local community of immigrants who were ready to celebrate, should I win, at the local egg shop.

    “Students,” my opponent began, “Our friend here may come from someplace different and we accept that. We are Americans. We descend from immigrants. But what I’m about to show you is just… unacceptable.” He took a picture out of his pocket and handed it to a teacher. “Please, pass this around.”

    Everyone who saw the picture either giggled, gasped or gagged.

    “I’d like everyone to see that.” He said. “My opponent did that.”

    “Oh my God! That’s disgusting!” one of the football players said.

    “And that’s not the only time he’s done it. I have other pictures.” he handed them out, “and even video!”

    He pressed a button and there it was on the auditorium screen. I stepped into a bathroom with a cat and the cat walked out, covered in poop.

    “Now no one, no one wants a president who poops on cats!”

    The voters spoke the next day and I celebrated with my friends at the eggery. Seems the student body DID want a president who poops on cats.

  12. Icabu says:

    Sitting on a stool on the stage with the entire student body stuffed into the auditorium, I knew this would be the moment. The debate had actually gone well. I outlined my offerings and answered Mrs. Chadwick’s questions competently. Chad, my opponent, on the other hand, had continued his attacks on me. He’d twisted everything into something derogatory. Like when I’d been seen in the bathroom washing my hands during class time after helping Mrs. Wiggins, the secretary, change the toner in the copier – Chad turned it into me hanging out, and probably smoking, in the bathroom instead of going to class. And when I’d given Stacy a sympathy hug after her aunt had passed away, Chad told everyone I was moving in on Blake’s girl. I’d gotten a black eye out of that one, even though Stacy had dumped Blake two weeks earlier.

    But, Chad had promised me, and the entire school, that he’d blow me out of the water at this debate. He had a bombshell to drop on me. I knew it wouldn’t be anything truthful, but still …

    I hated that my hands shook a little holding my notes as Chad stood to give his closing remarks. This had to be it. Mrs. Chadwick glared at Chad as if to dare him to continue his attacks, but I knew that wouldn’t deter him one bit. I wanted to tune him out, but, like the rest of the students, I had a morbid curiosity about what he was going to make up about me.

    Chad cleared his throat and stepped up to the microphone. The audience was absolutely quiet. I could hear myself sweating.

    “Although leading the race for class president to this point,” Chad began. Hesitating a moment, he turned to Mrs. Chadwick and she nodded for him to continue. “I, um, due to circumstances beyond…I mean, due to the fact that I, you know, um…cheated, um, on my History exam…well, I have to drop out of the race I was winning and, um, and as part of my punishment, um, I now, you know, endorse my opponent. Thank you.”

    Chad raced off the stage. I sat, glued to my stool. For several of my very loud heart beats, no one moved or made a sound. Mrs. Chadwick grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.

    “Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, “your new Junior Class President.”

    Her lone claps were soon joined by everyone in the audience. I smiled and raised my arms in victory.

    Now, thirty years later, as I polished my name bar on the mahogany desk in the large corner office of one of the biggest financial companies in the city, I swiveled my leather chair to gaze out at the magnificent view and again raised my arms in victory…and entertained thoughts of an even bigger Presidency.

  13. c.huntemann says:

    The opponent says, “You think she has this class’s best interests in mind. She doesn’t. She transferred here from Arnold High School in the middle of her sophomore year. She spends half her time across town in that district. She’s still dating their quarterback. Their quarterback! That shows you where her allegiances are.”
    I say, “I assure you I am devoted to this school. I will fulfill my duties this coming year as your president. I will promote the class of 2013 from now to 2063, our 50th reunion, and beyond.”
    “She missed the float prep for the homecoming parade all last week. But she wanted to ride the float along with all the others who worked so hard in it. She doesn’t work, she just didn’t have time. She won’t have time for you either.”
    I say, “No, I don’t have a job… that pays. I do take care of my Grandfather. He couldn’t move with us because we don’t have wheelchair access to our house. And I did work on the float. I made the signs while at Papa’s and brought them to the parade.”
    “But she’s still dating that guy from Arnold. What does she want? To go to both proms? His and ours?”
    “I’m not a love um and leave um girl. I stay faithful. Brad and I grew up together. And, yes, I do still see him. But he’s leaving for the Marines after school next June. I might not be able to see him for years.”
    The opponent says, “You need someone like me for your class president. I’ve lived here since grade school. I know this neighborhood. I know every family on this side of town. And every one of you.”
    I say, “I’ve already stood up for you. When they wanted to take half of the parking lot for the new track, I wrote about it in the school newspaper. I let you know. She didn’t. She knew about the parking problem. Her dad is the contractor.”
    “That’s not fair. That was a school district decision. They decide where to spend the budget, students don’t. All you did was get everybody mad. And I’m not for riling up a mob.”
    “I informed the student body. The sit-in at the School District office was spontaneous. We were losing precious parking spaces and we needed to voice our concerns.”
    “All that did was delay the project. We still lost the spaces. You fight for losing causes.”
    “I beg to differ with you. The school board added parking accommodation into the woods on the south side of the school. That will come next year… after I am graduated. I’m already thinking of your future. Vote for me.”

  14. handyman43127 says:

    FRIEND FORGOTTEN

    Thought’s, choice’s, decision’s so long ago. Who would, I mean when is the past just that, the past. When will I ever escape.

    Flying under the radar was easy for me. Living outside of the city helped, my neighbor’s had four leg’s and fur. The ones that did not seldom found or cared to invest much time in my day’s.

    Bump’s and bruise’s in gym and an occasional run-in with the principal defined most of my junior high day’s. That and my stubborn, if it’s right the cost does not matter attitude.

    Why my senior class would select me to run for class president, it still, till even now makes me look out the window and wonder why.

    A best friend, one that had been mine for years. We had grown up side by side. His mother and mine were also joined at the hip.

    Why then, why would Jerry my best friend from birth. Why would he use something from year’s ago to try to defeat me in the race that we found ourselves running against each other in. Nothing, not one thing had ever came against us!

    Election day was upon us. The student’s were gathered in the gym. I looked across the stage at Jerry, he was not looking at me, he, caught by the power that surrounded us, the energy of the student’s that shouted his name. I would have to answer to the charge’s levied against me by Jerry.

    Week’s of sneer’s, smirk’s and wagging finger’s have come to this. A smear campaign against what I stood for my entire life. I would, I would stand up!

    Jerry’s speech went as I had imagined. The bombshell he had promised to deliver was painful, A dagger plunged through my chest, from the shadow’s of the past.

    I was a thief. I was accused by Jerry of stealing. Worst, I had stolen from a teacher.

    Standing in front of the people I had grown up around I admitted to the crime. I had entered a teachers desk, I had taken what did not belong to me. What I had done was wrong, I explained. What I did I did because I believed it was right. Now I understand that what I have always believed in is the truth. I stole, yes, but I stole for Jerry because he had drawn a picture that made fun of Mr. Bigger. Finding the picture in the trash can Mr. Bigger, with the evidence promised Jerry swat’s the next day. I stole the evidence from a desk to protect my friend from what he never wanted to face,

  15. penney says:

    JT had decided to run for class president just for kicks. Actually, he barely made the school requirements to run and didn’t think it would go this far. Now, he was really getting into it, the whole campaigning thing. He couldn’t wait for the eminent power, the allowances given in the guise of student government. His posse gave out rubber bracelets, links to You Tube, and freebies. It was those bracelets that were his signature move. He had an endless entanglement of colors on both wrists:

    “Vote for JT”
    “Lets All Get Along”
    “Pro Pregnant Teens”
    “Pro Abstinence”
    “Let’s Pray”
    “Clicks Are Great”

    You name it, he had it. His position was to take no position or to take all positions. The first debate was about to start. The only opponent, Jill Carmichael had been running a smear campaign that included dropping a bombshell at the debate.

    JT sat facing the entire school from the stage, watching the whole school as they watched him. Even though he tried to stay cool, he couldn’t help snapping a few bracelets like someone with OCD. See he had a secret, a huge secret but he felt he could manage it no problem. Still he hated not knowing for sure what she would say. Jill walked to the podium.

    “Do you realize who you’re about to vote for?” She yelled in the microphone.

    With an agonizing squeal reverberating from the speakers she stepped back. No one seemed to listen (it was high school). She pointed to the film screen. Everyone stopped and looked up to see a girl that resembled JT checking a pregnancy test. Then it cut to the same girl outside an abortion clinic. Finally, that girl was under the football bleachers with at least 4 guys.

    “That is JT! JT isn’t who you think he/she is. Meet Jesse Turner senior transfer student in disguise! A liar, a fraud!” She pointed at JT and continued. “Those bracelets or causes, are a joke, she’s the biggest slut in school! Vote for me!” Jill was screaming with determination.

    JT ran from the stage in tears. Before she could reach the back stairs, the sound of the whole school cheering and rumbling with excitement for JT could be heard. What she didn’t see was Jill being taken away by the principal. It’s hard to explain but from that point JT changed, totally and, so did the school.

  16. vcp773 says:

    In 1984 Salem Senior High was predominately a new wave school. Sure there were some hold over classic rockers sprinkled in there with the WHAM boys but skinny ties and tight jeans ruled the halls. It was time for a change.

    I decided to run my campaign in true punk rock style. Screw everything and speak the truth no matter what. “I Hate New Wave” was my adopted slogan. I found no reason to sugar coat it.

    My official campaign song became “Black Coffee” from Black Flag. I was strong, dark, and I didn’t take anything to mellow my flavor.

    I was taking our small campus by storm. The in your face approach was working and the students were starting to take sides. I started seeing spiked choker chains, mohawks and Doc Martens appearing in our tight hallways. My anti-political political strategy was working.

    Heading to 4th period I was handed a flyer by a Waver that read;

    Big bomb about to be dropped at the first debate. Your minds will be changed!

    “What the hell?” I thought to myself. The debate was in 3 hours and I spent every minute of that trying to outthink my opponent. I had no idea what was about to be announced as I took my place on the stage.

    Herron took his place across from me. His hair was high exposing his shiny forehead that rested about his black horn rimmed glasses. His love for Elvis Costello was very visible and personally made me a little uneasy. But he carried himself with confidence and all 112 pounds of him screamed dweeb.

    “Hello Salem High,” he said “as promised here is the bombshell about my opponent. He sees himself as a true punk rocker all the way down to the Elmers glue in his hair. He downs the rest of us and has even called some of you eurotrash. But let me tell you his looks are deceiving!”

    I was getting a little uneasy. This little pinhead was painting a pretty good picture here and drawing every last drop of drama out of this.

    Herron turned around as the curtains opened and on the screen was a picture.

    “This, Salem High is your tough, honest, no nonsense punk rocker”, Herron said.

    It was a picture alright. It was a picture of me, at 4 years old, in a Menudo t-shirt. I smiled to myself. This really couldn’t be the bombshell could it? The student body just looked at one another in the same manner as I was thinking. This was pathetic.

    “Gag me with a spoon man, are you serious?” was yelled from the crowd.

    “He’s like 4 years old man. You’re nothing but a poser dude!” was yelled from somewhere in the darkness.

    It was at that I knew I was going to be the next class president.

    Herron went on to Harvard and served with Tipper to get music censored and I went to jail at 19 year of age for squatting with Weird Al.

    • Chrisgiraffe says:

      It’s funny kids would be so divided over music fads. I think it would have been funny to include a small break-dancing independent third party that worshiped bugaloo-Shrimp, Ozone outrageously baggy parachute pants and the right to lay cardboard down wherever they choose.

      Perhaps when your candidate won they could play Black Flag’s ‘Sinking’ over the loudspeakers as the loser sulked off into the cafeteria. :-)

  17. I didn’t even want to run in the election. So the school counsellor convinced my mom that campaigning for junior-high class president would be a good idea, something to distract me away from the fact I was sick. Sick, tired, and scared to death of dying.

    That’s why I found myself standing on-stage in front of a packed auditorium, while Maddy Stevenson – my opponent and head cheerleader – took to the podium to carry out her threat. She’d spread a rumour all week around school saying she was going to reveal a secret about me during the class presidential debate. A ‘bombshell’ was what she’d called it.

    If anyone looked at me, really looked at me, my secret would be obvious. The depression, the constant throwing up, the feeling so tired I always got out of gym class without even so much as a sick note. I just thank god my hair has started to fall out yet.

    “I know you all think I’m just a head cheerleader, – ” Maddy’s piercing voice had the microphone ringing with complaint. The school principal, who stood just behind us, leaned forward and suggested Maddy take a step back from the mic. She ignored him. “– but I also care about you, the little guys”.

    Maddy waved a hand as though she were royalty gesturing at a passing crowd. I rolled my eyes before pinning my gaze on the assembly in front of us, trying to widen my fixed exhausted smile.

    “You need someone who will totally lead you to better things.” Maddy continued. “Someone who is fit to lead. Someone whose name you can trust. Not someone who looks and sounds lame.” I tore my eyes away from the crowd, blushing from a rush of anxiety, as Maddy pointed at me. I honestly didn’t think she’d go through with her threat.

    “It is my solemn duty to reveal my opponent, Jason Taylor, has a weird middle name. It’s Lucille you guys. Seriously,” Maddy paused for effect, her expression awash with incredulity. “Lu-cille.” she emphasised each syllable of my middle name in disbelief.

    Listening to Maddy reveal the other secret in my life, I did something I hadn’t done since the moment my doctor confirmed I had leukemia. I laughed out loud.

    ———————————————————————-

    Authors Note :: This is my first Writer’s Digest Story Prompt, that’s managed to keep under the 500 word limit. I think that might be because I am all ‘written-out’ from the NaNoWriMo (over 11k words so far!).

  18. WV Jim says:

    My opponent was making promises he could never keep. He’d been doing it for weeks. A month ago, I had Senior Class President locked up; now, it’s anybody’s guess. Between half hour breaks between classes, tacos and pizza for lunches, and now the fifty soda machines he’s promising, Billy Mitchell was probably locking up the nomination himself.

    “And now comes the news I’ve been promising. News you need to know before casting your vote.”

    Billy glanced over his shoulder and looked at me. I knew what was coming; well, I knew what he promised was coming. But his promises seemed like pie in the sky.

    “My opponent, Jimmy Mack, is…” The entire crowd leaned in to hear the bombshell. Even I leaned forward, caught myself, and moved back, trying to appear nonchalant.

    “Is…a band nerd!”

    A huge gasp came from the crowd, and six hundred students looked in my direction. I felt my face turning red.

    “He plays trombone in the marching band! Is this,” pointing at me, “who you want leading you this year?”

    A noise best described as a loud rustle came from the crowd, as six hundred students debated amongst themselves what my ‘nerdism’ would mean.

    “So I leave you with this final thought: you have two clear choices,” pointing at me again. “A nerd or,” pointing at himself, “a quarterback.”

    The crowd erupted in applause, as over five hundred people stood and cheered. Those who didn’t were my fellow band mates, chess club members and the audio/visual crew.

    Then it was my turn to speak.

    “Mr. Principal, faculty members, and my fellow students: my opponent is correct in one assessment…you have two clear choices. But those choices are not as he described.

    The clamoring heard just moments before suddenly ended; somewhere in the back of the auditorium a pin dropped, and it echoed throughout the hall.

    “You can choose a nerd,” as I pointed at myself, then I pointed at my opponent, sitting and smiling beside me. “Or you can choose a bully.”

    Loud boos rang out, but not from the majority of the assembly this time; most sat in silence.

    “By show of hands, how many of you have been locked in your lockers by a member of the football team?”

    Over one hundred hands rose.

    “Leave your hands up. Now, how many people have had their gym shorts pulled down to their ankles by football players?”

    Another hundred hands rose.

    “And how many people have found pudding in their text books?”

    One hundred more hands.

    “And finally…how many people have gotten a wedgie from a football player; a wedgie pulled so high your drawers were draped your head?”

    Hundreds more hands went up.

    Suddenly, in the back of the hall, came a lone chant: “No More Wedgies! No More Wedgies!”

    Within thirty seconds over five hundred people had jumped to their feet, chanting, fists pumping.

    My opponent looked like he’d swallowed a frog.

    One week later I was sworn in as Senior Class President.

  19. _Gustobel says:

    It was the week of the the student council election at Norstrom High School, and the first debate between the presidential candidates was due to take place in ten minutes. The crowded auditorium buzzed with the eager voices of the hundreds of students.

    Jenna Nellis sat backstage in the dark. She had been popular since she transferred to this school eight months ago, but she and Alison Moyer had butted heads since they met. It was hardly surprising that they were fighting for the position of student council president. Some said Alison was only in it to oppose Jenna. Nasty rumors had also been circulating about Jenna having spent some time in Juvie. Speculation abound on who started them.
    Two days ago, Alison had sworn over the intercom that at today’s debate, she would reveal something that would change everything. Jenna smiled. Alison wasn’t going to get anywhere, that was for sure.
    The principal was onstage now. As he discussed the rules, Jenna sauntered to the curtain. Alison marched around her side at the same time and shot Jenna a poisonous look.
    Finally, the principal announced the two girls’ names and they stepped out onto either side of the stage. They smiled and waved before resting behind their respective podiums. The applause gave way to silent anticipation. It was Alison’s turn first. If her smile had been any wider, her face might have split in two. Jenna yawned. The projector screen descended.
    “Norstrom students and faculty,” Alison gushed as the lights dimmed. “This girl,” she flapped an arm at Jenna, “has tricked us into believing she is a sweet, innocent young lady, and here you will see evidence that proves otherwise.” Her eyes flicked to the screen in anticipation. The projector lit the surface up white.
    And that was it. Murmurs crept through the auditorium as one, three, five minutes crept by. Sweat crept down Alison’s face. The principal announced a temporary break, and the two candidates were ushered backstage together. Alison stood next to Jenna in the dark, shaking. “But…” choked Alison. “How did you know where… You couldn’t have?!”
    Jenna smiled and put her hand on Alison’s shoulder. “Everyone makes mistakes, Alison. It’s a shame your baby brother had to pay for yours.” She slipped her hand off Alison’s shoulder and began to walk back to her chair.
    Tears welled up in Alison’s eyes. “Wh… Brendan… Where… You didn’t…” Jenna swiveled back on her heels.
    “What are you rambling about now, Alison? I’d study my points for the debate like me if I were you.” As Alison cried on the floor, Jenna flipped back and walked to her dark chair with a bounce in her step and a grin that was less than innocent.

  20. mokingjay says:

    I love all of these. A great promt for election day. Alas I sprained my wrist and can’t type much at all.

  21. JRSimmang says:

    I remember the scene well.
    This must have been, what, 35, 36 years ago? I still had my hair then. I still had a reason to go home at night.
    His name was Jack Brown. He was my rival.
    We had been going strong as nemeses our entire high school experience. I can’t tell you why. Not that it matters nowadays. Perhaps it was about a girl. So, why should I have been surprised to learn he would be running against me in the upcoming class presidential race.
    How quaint.
    He was no match for me intellectually, but he did have the leg up on the looks. And, we all know people vote for the more attractive one, especially in high school.
    The election was just around the corner and we began our debates. The first two were fine. I talked about the need for senior free time where we could work on homework and perhaps a culminating class project. He smiled big for the camera and used words like “freedom,” and “change,” and “happiness.” He shook my hand in public, but he was the brains behind the “Flynn COCKer” campaign. My last name is Cooker.
    The last debate, though, was the kicker. He announced he would be dropping a bombshell, his October surprise, if you will.
    I just finished responding to the moderator’s question about lunch food. Jack had a chance to rebut. He said, “I think we need pizza every day,” and he thrust his arms in the air. “Which is exactly what my opponent opposes!”
    That’s it. I don’t like pizza? I couldn’t help but laugh.
    That’s about the time he actually pulled out a bombshell. “Eat nuke, asshole!”
    The rest of the day, hell, the rest of the week is awash. He ignited a chain reaction, which called the CIA in. After that, Iraq geared up, North Korea fired, Russia fired, Australia (effing Australia) released more nukes than a microwave sale at Home Depot.
    I guess I won the presidency.

  22. MGH1979 says:

    I looked down at my fingernails for the hundredth time, wishing I could bite them in anticipation of the upcoming “bombshell” of an announcement from my so-called campaign opponent.

    I was an honor student, band geek, mathematician, photojournalist—who was on track for being valedictorian.

    Shelly Sanders’ attempts at lambasting my campaign early on in the year did little to stop the momentum I was gaining from the unpopular crowd. I shook my head to clear it and focused once again on her speech.

    “…and so, after careful consideration I plan on adding a new candy machine on the second floor so we won’t have to walk all the way to the first floor to get a snack.”

    Her speech was never ending, but then finally, I heard two words that snapped me to attention…bombshell announcement…

    “I know you have waited patiently for my last point, and I’ll make it quick, Sherry Jones…my opponent…” she pointed wildly in my direction “…is CHEATING!”

    A collective gasp sounded from the audience. My jaw hung open in alarm and outrage at having been accused of something that I was definitely not guilty of.

    “I have never cheated a day in my life. I sure do hope you have proof to go along with such an accusatory statement Shelly.”

    “I do have proof…a video that clearly shows the lengths you will go to—in order to make an A.” With a nod of her head the video screen came rolling down with an odd silent finality.

    The video played—and there I was…sitting in my desk during Algebra, all of us taking a test, whoever was filming had been behind me without my knowledge. The person doing the filming titled the camera down slightly in order to hide from the teacher. There, just on the edge of the video…a blurry video, I might add—it showed me reaching into my backpack and pulling out a piece of paper, a cheat sheet. The screen kept bouncing up and down, reminding me a lot of the special effects from ‘The Blair Witch Project’. It was doctored and poorly at that. The video stopped abruptly, everyone in the auditorium silent with anticipation.

    The principal quickly spoke up—“Do you have anything to say about this Sherry?”

    “Well, actually…yes, yes I do Principal Clark. This video has been doctored—a trick to make you all think I am a cheater…but I am not the one who cheated you here today. That would be my opponent, Shelly Sanders. I will prove this to you by showing you the actual video that I obtained through my good friends in our photojournalism class…Oh, and when I become president of our class I plan on obtaining the finest camera and video equipment we can afford!”

    Cheers erupted throughout the auditorium and the best part about it was the look on Shelly’s face as I held my hands up in triumph.

  23. Chrisgiraffe says:

    Mike Wilson would do anything to crush me. He told our heftiest linebacker I was trying to steal his girlfriend, Mr. Morris I’d plagiarized my Jane Eyre essay from the internet, and a good handful of girls I was gay- none of it was true.

    “You have to get him back.” My friends insisted.

    I reassured them that people like Mike always get theirs in the end, even if I knew that wasn’t always true. Besides, Mike could lie all he wanted to but he didn’t have anything on me, or so I thought. There was one incident that, yes, I did do and I wouldn’t want a soul to know about. No one saw me but security tapes don’t lie. I still have no idea how Mike got his hands on that.

    “I saw the whole thing and when I tell everyone… that’s it. You’re done.”

    “You don’t want to do that.” I pleaded.

    “Yes, I do. I’ve worked too hard to let some no-name get that spot.”

    “I care about this school. I could really make some changes.”

    “You’re so naive. Class presidents don’t make any changes.”

    “So why do you want it?”

    “Harvard likes that kind of thing on an ap. Duh.”

    I was furious, but still insisted he keep his dirt on me to himself. Fat chance.

    “I’ve tried to show you, time and again, that our classmate doesn’t have the character to be class president. What do you really know about him?” Mike asked the assembly. “Well, I think there’s something you should know.”

    He could see my anxious look, but continued.

    “He is no less than a thief… and I have proof.” He pointed to his friends who had hooked his computer to the large screen in the auditorium. “Roll it!” he called out.

    Black and white surveillance footage showed me suspiciously look around, walk up to the lunch room soda machine, crack open the lock and take something out. Students gasped and a commotion ensued.
    “There he is: Your candidate, stealing. And not only stealing, stealing from MY father’s vending machines. Care to explain THIS one?” Mike couldn’t be happier. I had no choice but to fess up.

    “That was me and yes, I did break into that machine. Everyone knows those machines seem broken half the time. I can’t recall how many times it swallowed my dollar and spit nothing out. Well, I asked one of the restockers about it and he said all of the Wilson machines were like that. I asked why they didn’t fix them and he told they weren’t broken: they are rigged to take an extra dollar now and then. I broke into the machine you saw, took out its motherboard and looked at the program. I’m sorry to say that it is rigged to take every fourth dollar and give nothing in return. If you’ve ever lost a dollar in the soda machines you’ve helped subsidize Mike’s campaign.”

    The subsequent investigation validated my findings, the Wilson machines were taken out of the district and Jessica Sanders won the election by a landslide, but that made since because, really, who didn’t like Jessica?

    I know mine is slightly over (525) but I tried a couple of different endings, some that got me far under, and just liked this one the best so I figured I’d let it stand. Oh yeah, and as for Mike, I believe he was beaten mercilessly with an electrical cord by his father. He mentioned his hardships on his application to Harvard, the admissions board took pity and let him in. He was later expelled due to plagiarizing on a Jane Eyre essay but found work at a mortgage company in California that was doing business hand over fist. He bought the company from the owner just before the housing bubble burst. Within a year he was bankrupt. His wife left him but didn’t take the dog. The dog ran away but he followed the dog, all the way back home to his home town. He found work with his father who insisted the only way to make money was getting that extra dollar. Mike persuaded his father honesty really is the best policy and the machines were made clean. They got another contract with the school and now they make a good, honest living. Mike also apologized to me about the campaign and I said I was sorry for exposing his father’s corruption. We had a mocha at Starbucks and laughed at our younger follies.

    The end?

  24. krau27 says:

    The past month had been nothing but hell for me. Aside with the normal problems of any high school guy, the usual teacher problems, bullies, friends, girls, etcetera, but this month had been even worse and that can be summed up in two words, Sandy Blecher.
    I’ve never been part of the popular crowd but people knew me and I got along with just about everyone except for her. Sandy was captain of the cheerleaders, captain of the girls swimming and diving team, water polo captain, and to top it all off head of the school newspaper so needless to say she makes herself look good and is easily the most popular girl in school. Sandy and I have always butted heads for as long as I can remember and this month competing against her for Class president has defiantly shown that was apparent. Instead of arguing about the issues like I have, for the past month all she’s been doing is running a smear campaign against me, bringing up every little thing that we’ve ever argued about and then some.
    I thought it couldn’t get any worse; she had dragged up everything that apparently we had argued about, and even had made up some stuff, but one day at lunch my friend Timmy told me something horrible.
    “Hey John did you hear what Sandy has been saying recently?”
    “No Tim, I haven’t. What she’s saying now? I’m in league with bigfoot or some other mythical creature and I’m going to burn the school down with them?”
    “No not yet.” He laughed, “ She’s saying that she has something that will stop your campaign in its tracks, says it’s the motherload of all things that make you look bad. To top it all off, shes going to tell the whole school what it is in the big debate next Tuesday.”

    Wonderfull, just what I needed, some bit of information that would put my campaign away for good, and also probably toss me to the lowest rung on the social ladder. Until the debate I was so nervous, I couldn’t figure out what she was going to say and I could barely sleep until Tuesday’s debate.

    Tuesday finally came and the clock seemed to drag along as the minutes ticked down to the debate at lunch.. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the debate came. We were put on opposite podiums in the gym in front of the whole school to try and persuade them why they should elect us. Sandy was the first to speak.

    “Class, my opponent here is the worst person to, like, elect ever. I have photographic evidence of why you shouldn’t vote for him and why he’s a terrible candidate.”

    The room went dark as the projector powered on, showing a very poorly photo shopped image of me stealing money from the lunchroom register.

    “As you can see John is clearly a theif stealing from the school and…”
    “This is ridiculous!” I shouted interrupting her, “That is clearly not me, and all you’ve been doing this past month is trying to make me look bad and not focus on the issues, your campaign is complete and total bunk! I bet you can’t even tell me what the schools issues are or what our class even wants!”
    After the debate Sandy’s campaign took a nose dive, all her voters quickly changed to me soon after, resulting in me winning the election by a landslide.

  25. Andy Brackett says:

    The Great Debate

    It had been a grueling three weeks. I was running for class president of Filmore Briggs High School against the schools most popular, and richest, student Thaddeus Ellswood. His whole campaign centered on libel and slander. Our first major debate was fast approaching and he promised the masses of letting lose with a bombshell destined to destroy my political futures.

    I was beside myself with fear and anxiety. What more could he possibly have to say against me? What hasn’t he already said? It’s true, I don’t come from a wealthy family. It’s true that I wear hand-me-down clothes, and that I struggle with my classes. Thad is the exact opposite in every way. He wears the nicest clothes, aces all of classes and is team Captain of both baseball and football teams. I can only believe that somehow he’s learned of my past and plans to use that against me. If so, I must be ready.

    The debate started calmly enough. The moderator threw easy questions to both of us. Topics such as school lunches, free time for study hall and new uniforms for the cheerleaders were all debated. I felt I was handling myself well when all of a sudden Thad dropped his bomb.

    “My opponent claims he’s run an open campaign, that he’s claims been transparent with all of his records! He says that he’s never been in trouble with the law! Well I’m here to tell you all, that I have unequivocal evidence to the contrary! My opponent is a criminal! An ex-con! My opponent has served time. I ask you, students of our dear Filmore Briggs High, can we truly allow someone with this kind of background, someone that has lied to us all, to be our next President?”

    So there it was. The whole auditorium was abuzz with frantic chatter. All eyes were upon me. The moderator raised his hands to silence the crowd and looked at me and said, “Two minutes for your rebuttal Mr. Brackett.”

    I gripped the lectern with both hands, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

    “Yes, it is true.” I said. The entire room gasped in chorus.
    “At my former school, Benjamin Moore High, I was arrested…for fighting. The school had a zero tolerance policy in that regard, even though I was fighting in defense of a younger student. This student was being bullied, every day by a group of privileged boys who thought they were better than everyone else. They were beating this poor kid because of what he was poor, because of what he was wearing, and for his poor grades. I stood up for this boy and took on his oppressors. And for this, I spent 6 months in juvenile detention and was expelled from that school. And here I am before you now, promising to all that I would do it again if needed. To stand up to the likes of Thaddeus Ellswood, and those like him, to protect the weak and foster a better life for all.”

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