On Competitions

Juicy Peppah

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LIFE was never a race when I was still living in the mountains. Though I finish my school years topping the class, and feel happy about it, it never made me friendless. In fact, I have a pair of two genuine girl buddies, and it is only distance that keeps us apart. Inside, I still believe that we are friends, and true friends for that matter.

However, I had to undergo two years of being second best, because studying was and still is not the first thing on my mind. There was even a time when I doubted I deserved to be on top. My parents used to work at a government firm in the place where we once lived and I could see how far their influence reached people.

But when I started to live in the city, I never thought I would still make it to the second place. I did read (stories) in our free time and I guess it had only contributed to my knowledge. That’s when I realized my parents have nothing to do with my achievements. Maybe I did exert effort.

When I started studying in the city, I have learned the spirit of competition and bad enough, not in a friendly way, unlike the spirit I was not aware of while living in the mountains. My most intelligent classmate would come to me after every quiz to check on my paper.

I didn’t understand why she had to do it. But whenever she would see that my score was higher than hers (or just high, maybe), some unexplainable things would paint on her face, making it hard for me to reach her and treat her as a friend. She would recheck my paper and see to it that it would decrease my points.

College (I didn’t really care about topping in high school) was that very point when the black spirit of competition was clearly visible. I actively participated, comparing my scores to my classmates who also did the same (applies for all kinds of activities).

There was even a time when that competition would go down the level of our hearts. We would fight, bite each other’s backs, throw a classmate out of the boat, and then move as if nothing was really happening.

What happened to me? I didn’t go to college to snag a spot in the dean’s list. I went there just to fulfill my dreams—to learn to write, not really to be like most of my classmates, pursuing studies to finish their education so that they could focus on living in the future. Why did I ever to allow myself to be like them?

But I could not blame myself or my classmates for indulging in that disgustingly horrid kind of activity. We were all just residents in a house along the sand—victims of a system that has constantly been unstable. I wish I knew this before I could ever think of competing.

I could have wanted to go back in time to stop this, but I think it is better to have been an active participant somehow. At least I would refer to it when another dark spirit of the same kind will come to take over my body in the near future.