Running The Gauntlet

Winter-Spring 2009-2010

“Meg- Susanna Smith

Jo- Ezme Winters

Beth- Dianna Kathryn

Amy- Nickie Winters.” Head of Drama, Mrs. Merrydew, announces to the auditorium.

“I got it! I got in! My goodness, I’ve never had such an awesome role, in my whole career!” Nickie Winters almost screams, half giggling and gripping her sister’s arm very tightly. This receives an annoyed eyebrow from Ezme.

“What are you on about, Nick? What career-?” Then it hits her, “Wait a second! Oh my God! I’m Jo! I got in too! Nickie, you and I are sisters.”

The girls hug each other, breaking away the sweaty-palmed grip they had been clutching each other with in the anxious anticipation minutes beforehand.

Mrs. Merrydew puts up her broad, flat hand for attention, and then continues the next part of her speech. “If anybody is disappointed that they haven’t got a part, Year 9s and 10s can audition for the local play, which this year, we are providing actors for, and helping out; costumes, make-up and hair-stylists, this production needs everything.

“Also I am passing out slips that you should hand out to your parents about whether or not they can help.”

“Real discrete Mrs. ‘Merrydo’,” Shona mutters in a whisper. It is common knowledge that everyone makes fun of the Head of Drama’s hyperactive personality. Though why Shona is here anyway, we don’t have much of a clue.

Ezme bounds down the auditorium stairs, a huge grin spread from ear to ear. The happiness that she feels is twinkling in her eyes, like the stardom that she may one day get.

“Awesome Ez! Now you’re on the way!”

“You think?” She says breathlessly. We know that seeds of doubt have been sown about her music from last month’s triumph-disaster, and she has not uttered one word about anything, not even depressive notes about the V-Blog.

“I still don’t believe it!” Nickie repeats, running the stairs just like her sister. They have more than just their acting talents in common, less than they like to admit.

Ezme ruffles her sister’s short hair, in a slightly patronizing way.

“So you said and, wow, I don’t think I believe you either.”


The group bursts out laughing and we walk out, arm in arm. Ezme chatters away to everybody and nobody in particular. It seems her life is soaring. Then the moment is shattered when someone asks:

“What about trying out for the local play, Ezme?”

The End

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