Chapter 6: 6- Oath Taking

August 9, 2021 (Present time)

The clock strikes eight in the morning. The bell rings to be heard throughout the school.

“To all students, please proceed to your respective classrooms. The rosary will be held in the classrooms for today, once all students are settled in. You can check for the section you belong to at the respective buildings designated for your year level. Your names have been posted outside the classrooms. Please be inside your rooms by 8:30 am so we can begin with the morning rosary,” an announcer says overheard.

“Again…” the announcer repeats.

Students start heading for their respective buildings, chatting and buzzing away.

Standing in the middle of the crowd are eight students, seven with grim looks on their faces, one smiling happily.

“Oh, looks like the chaos has already started,” Trace says to herself, looking at the mess that the students have made as soon as they entered the school.

Plastic wrappings are littered everywhere, left by the crowd earlier.

“Tsk tsk tsk, I’m beginning to see the bumpy road ahead,” she continues. “Hmm, never mind. That just makes the challenge more exciting,. See you all at the principal’s office,” she adds with a smile, continuing on her way.

 

*********

 

“You go!” Lianne says, pushing the treasurer, Zion, forward.

The seven elect members of the SSC are standing outside the principal’s office, all gathered and not so ready for whatever they were called here for. They have no clue what’s going on, only that their tyrant of a president ordered them to come here on the first day as soon as the bell rings. Except…they can’t get themselves to knock.

This is the new principal. What is she’s as scary as Miss Trace? They did collude to make that fearsome handbook. What if they’re a riding in tandem bent on world domination? Elaiza thinks silently, biting her nails.

“Why me? You go! You heard what they she-d-word said, I just keep the dough!” Zion replies, pushing Lianne back.

“And I just count the dough. And don’t say d-word, she’ll catch you!” Lianne says back in a whisper.

“Idiot! That’s why I said d-word. I didn’t say dem…” Zion starts to say.

“Shhhh!” the five people present say to him. Stephen just rolls his eyes.

Zion covers his mouth. Oops! He almost said the d-word.

“Alright alright! Enough of this. We’re mince meat if we’re late. I’ll go ahead and knock,” says Celestine, Celly for short.

“Yeah, you go. You do the talking after all,” Lianne says.

“Uh, excuse me? Didn’t you read the handbook as instructed? The P.I.O. has the responsibility of propagating important information and making sure that…” Celly says in protest, whipping her hair at Lianne.

“Fine fine whatever! Just knock already!” Zion says.

Samier, Austin, and Stephen only look at the three bicker.

Finally, having had enough, Stephen sighs. He walks forward and knocks on the wooden door.

Everyone turns to solid stone in the instant. They’re gonna meet her again, that woman, that d-word from the pits of the h-word.

“Enter,” someone says from the inside.

The seven look at each other, each gulping. Even Stephen looks anxious. No one dares open the room.

Then suddenly, the door swings open. It reveals an elderly nun, smiling warmly at them.  

So warm, so kind looking. Not like Miss Tracy’s indecipherable smile. Maybe she’s not so bad at all, Elaiza thinks.

“Welcome! Welcome! You must be members of the SSC. Trace told me all about you. I’m sorry about this small welcome ceremony. I told Trace we should have a bigger oath taking, but she insisted we make it simple and as soon as possible. Come on in, come on in,” the elderly nun says to the seven, still smiling.

Oath taking? Is that what they’re here for? The seven think.

The nun open the door wider to  reveal Trace already sitting on the sofa. The seven freeze even more.

“What’s important is that we’re inducted early so we can start our work immediately, sister. I’m sure non of them mind the simplicity of the ceremony,” Trace says with a wide, almost wicked smile, looking at the seven.

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The seven only look at her, not blinking. Maybe not even breathing.

“Right, guys?” Trace says further.

“Yes ma’am!” the seven say in unison.

“Oh look at them, so obedient. I’m sure they’ll all do a good job.

“I’ll make sure they will, sister. I’ll make sure they will,” Trace says smiling pointedly at her council.

The seven try their best to swallow their heart back to it’s place. That woman, she’s borderline insane, they all think.

 

*********

 

“Well, you guys should head back to your rooms. The rosary will start soon,”Sister Dolores says.

The seven stay silent. They’re still not sure how to act around the new principal. More importantly, they can’t avoid having any mishaps with the she-d-word in the room.

“We’ll get going then, sister. We’ll make sure to be ready for the orientation later,” Trace replies, bowing.

Everyone else follows her example, bowing as well.

“Oh right, before I forget. Here, take these. You’ll be wearing them to identify yourselves. I thought it would make you children look cool,” Sister Dolores says, excitedly handing Trace a bunch of purple pieces of cloth.

Cool? The seven asks in their minds. Even Trace already has a bad feeling about this.

“Go! You’ll be late for the morning rosary,” the sister adds, shooing them away before they can even react.

The sister shuts the door on them. Trace holds up the gifts, inspecting them. Then she sighs deeply.

“Sister Dolores can get carried away sometimes,” she says in a defeated voice, to the shock of the seven.

 They’ve never heard her use a defeated voice before. She’s the d-word. She can’t be defeated or weak, right?

Trace hands each of them a piece of the cloth.

“Auditor, treasurer, secretary, P.I.O., vice president, peace officer, business manager,” she says as she hands the clothes out.

Celly inspects hers. It’s a ling piece of diagonally cut cloth, purple in color. Embroidered at the top is the school logo, at the bottom the SSC logo. In the middle spans the words “public information officer” in scripts. Aster petals dot the piece of cloth.

“This is…” she starts.

“A…. sash?” Samier’s small voice pipes in.

Everyone looks at him. He’s so small and silent that it’s easy to forget that he’s even there.

“It’s…” Lianne starts.

“Tacky. Better be grateful you guys get the little ones. Get a load of mine,” Trace says, raising her sash.

Hers is even thicker in size, with three different shades of violet lining the side, the word president embroidered in gold, aster flowers dotting it instead of leaves. The entire sash is gilded with a silver cloth on the side.

“I’ll look like I just won a pageant everywhere I go. I must say, this matches my heels,” she says, sounding drained.

The seven almost feel pity for her. Almost. Mostly, they’re just trying their best not to laugh. The object is, indeed, tacky, to say the least.

“I’m not gonna…” Stephen starts.

“No, we’re gonna wear it,” Trace says with a sigh. “The principal can get carried away sometimes, but she means well. And this does make us more recognizable. Very recognizable, especially me. So yeah, we’re wearing it. Make sure to wear it properly always, carry it with dignity. That’s that. Go back to your rooms. We’ll proceed with the orientation later as planned. Go to the club room later before it all goes down.”

The seven can only accept their tacky purple fates as Trace walks away, putting on her sash.

I wanna die, Trace thinks to herself, willing her face not to turn red, as she puts on her over the top sash.

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