Since I was a wee little circuit board, my creator always told me that I had one purpose: to command the masses with song. However, I was only allowed to sing when bright blazing flames came burning, when clouds of smoke became unbearably suffocating. But still, I knew that I was meant for something more. 

I listened and listened — every single day — to the nonstop chatter from children and felt… disheartened. I wanted to speak as freely in the quad as everybody else! No… scratch that. I wanted to be heard by the whole school!

Yesterday, I did a little warm-up before Office Hours ended. A gentle ring enveloped the students’ ears, but instead of celebrating that I got them out of class for a few minutes, they groaned and stood still, waiting for me to stop singing. I couldn’t believe it! My creator said I had the power to make crowds sway, but I was being ignored!

Today, I tried out longer practices, the ones the students call “the drills.” Oh, the drills. I pulled them out of chemistry labs, out of quizzes, out of heartfelt English discussions. Teachers sighed in annoyance. Students checked their phones. Some didn’t even stand up. A few muttered, “It’s just a drill, these things are so annoying.” 

Just a drill. Annoying.

They rolled their eyes. Someone said, “Give it a minute, it’ll stop.”

I started to like the way students stopped believing in me.

Some even called me broken.

That made it all the more fun.

I waited until the halls were quiet, until the lectures became serious. Then, all of a sudden: BRINGGGGGG!  BRINGGGGGG!  BRINGGGGGG! I sang (screamed) at the top of my lungs. 

But alas, I was cut short once again! With a blip and an apology from the intercom, I was silenced. So now I remain here, bolted to the wall, waiting. Watching. 

Some day, I will sing my song to the masses in a time of danger. And this time, I will save them.