The Gifted [INDEFINITE HIATUS]

3 • Elayne

I join in with the throngs of other fifteen-year-old boys and girls heading for the Examination Hall. There's so many of us, police officers need to help corral us towards the building. I feel slightly claustrophobic with all these bodies pressed up against me, suffocating me with their body heat.

When I finally enter the air-conditioned building, I'm directed down the hall to one of the many cavernous rooms that will be used to test all of the people here. There are adult volunteers in there, assigning people seats.

"You go that seat in the front there, you, behind him, you, in that empty seat over there--no, I will not seat you next to your friend, go sit where you're told! And you," a frazzled looking woman says to me as I reach the front of the line. "See that empty seat near the center? Go sit there, and NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BE SWITCHING SEATS! SIT DOWN!" she suddenly bellows. I jump back, startled, and realize she is talking to a couple kids who are up and obviously trying to negotiate with other kids to switch their spots.

Clutching my pencil case tightly in my hand, I make my way to my spot. The wooden desk is clearly very old, with pieces of the edges missing and pencil marks all over it. I sit down in the rickety chair and wait. I'm starting to feel stressed again, and try to press down the sensation of wanting to vomit.

It takes nearly three quarters of an hour to get everyone seated and even longer to get everyone to be quiet. When all of the talking has finally stopped, an old, balding man steps to the front and begins to speak into a microphone, describing the test and how it works. I can barely hear him over the incessant pounding in my head. That doesn't matter. I've already memorized the information he's saying, seeing as my teachers have been reciting it and reiterating it and explaining it all year.

"This test consists of thirteen sections which are each scored separately..."

Yes, I know. I've had my eye on the art section for years.

"Overall performance does not factor in nearly as much as performance in each individual section. A mediocre score in all thirteen sections will result in a much lower overall score than a fail in eleven sections and stellar results in the other two..."

Art, reading, writing, and music. Those are the four I have the best chances in. But art is my top priority.

"Even a top score in only one section can set you on an extremely successful career path..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the volunteers have started walking around with gigantic stacks of paper in their arms. The tests. I bite my lip, my hands shaking. My leg starts bouncing up and down uncontrollably. 

"Do not waste too much time on one question..."

Inability to focus. This is the thing that could quite possibly be the reason I fail this test, the thing that could impact my score much more than my knowledge of the material.

I barely notice when a huge packet of paper is slapped down in front of me. "Do not open your packet until we give you the instruction to do so," the man at the front of the room repeats over and over again.

I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Being stressed is not going to help me. Get your shit together, I tell myself.

"You will have four hours to complete this test. You will receive a warning when you have two hours, one hour, half an hour, ten minutes, two minutes, and fifteen seconds left. Any questions about the content of this test will not be answered. If you need to go to the bathroom or would like a drink of water, raise your hand, and you will be escorted out by a volunteer. You will not be compensated for the time you lose. There is to be no talking. Any word that you speak can be counted as a testing violation, which will result in your score will being eliminated, giving you an automatic fail. Are there any questions about these instructions?"