The bell rang loudly as I sat on the stool in the student store finishing the last remnants of a once hearty breakfast. Looking out the heavy glass window intertwined with its dull gray bars, the feeling of being trapped hit me. Never before had I had to defend, or at least try to defend such an uncompromising position. Nevertheless, I was a warrior, and words were my swords. As a young child my size alone was enough to make me a winner. But by the time I came to high school I had learned to master the art of diplomacy and compromise to win arguments. I had learned that no enemy was too great to slay with a creative expression or a subtle point of logic. I would not allow myself to be discouraged. I alone could stop anything my world could hurl against me. I was about to be proven wrong.

There exist forces such as peer pressure in every world that mold and shape the lives of everyday people. For me this "world" went by the name of Carson High School. I was a junior with an cocksure attitude. Holding the office of student body treasurer, I alone was determined to be the last great champion for following the rules that financially governed this institution. With this kind of disposition I had more than once found myself trapped between doing what was "right," and doing what was "acceptable" to the peers that made up the societies in my "world."

I clearly remember the tension that had been building that entire week. The school's choir had been dealt a severe budget cut from the previous year's budget and was now demanding that as treasurer I sign a proposal to allocate approximately $800 more to the choir as an expenditure of the general student body. The legality of this entire proposal was questionable since this kind of expenditure fell into a gray area as far as the financial rule book was concerned. In addition, there had already been a decree at the beginning of the year that no additional money would be allocated to any club or organization. This proposal presented a direct challenge to me as treasurer; a challenge that had not been presented to any treasurer for the past couple of years. Needless to say this lit the flames of controversy across the entire school.

A showdown was in the making. On one side sat a host of choir members and their supporters, all making up what seemed to be an ominously dark society led by their teacher, a shrewd crafty man whose ways were a mystery to me, and on the other hand, sat me. I would have liked to believe that a few diehard student government fanatics would support me, simply because my voice carried a great deal of weight in this matter. In reality though, I knew that they would vote against the proposal only because they made up the few remaining people who absolutely hated choir for their own personal reasons, and would do anything to see the choral program crumble. That was okay though; I had learned how to be a warrior of words from the time I entered this "world" of mine. I would make my stand alone, as I had done many times before, sure to be glorious and triumphant in the end. I was wrong.

Already a-buzz with murmurs, the classroom speculated over what would happen during what was sure to be a tense meeting today. In my mind I pictured them as serpents slithering about for more money, even though they knew about the decree that had been made earlier that year. Careful to make sure that I could not hear them, the villainous choir members whispered amongst themselves like hissing snakes. But I knew exactly what they were saying. I overheard one of them whispering, "I just know this will be a fight to the bitter end... a fight that won't soon be forgotten even after graduation." Another one whispered, "This is just a waste of time, he'll give in just like all the other treasurers in the past."

After dispensing with formalities, the President quickly moved to the issue at hand, thereby calling me to take the floor. I sat there surrounded by my peers, yet I felt that something was not quite normal. As I clutched my notes, I could see the intensity on everyone's faces. An intensity that reminded me of the bloodthirsty face of a hungry lion stalking its prey. Instead of the familiar casual attitude that had prevailed at meetings in the past, all eyes were deadlocked on me. Eyes that seemed to be prying and cutting away at every inch of my flesh, like hungry vultures with talons of steel.

I drew in a deep breath and began to read the speech that I had prepared the night before:

"My fellow students, as your elected treasurer, you have entrusted me to safeguard the financial reserves of Carson High School against those who would use your moneys to support their own private agendas..."

Standing there I felt ready, ready to be heard, ready to stand up for the financial rule book, to go against the unwritten rule of this society, to stand up for what was right even if it meant I would have to go it alone. After all, I would still have my dignity and pride, or so I thought.

A multitude of waving hands eager to rebut my comments challenged me after I finished reading my initial statement denouncing the approval of the expenditure for the choir. The president pointed to people at random.

One girl stood up and began to ramble on about how treasurers in the past years had always been in favor of financially supporting the choir. "As a senior, and a member of the choir, I have seen the choir both increase in number and decrease in funding, but all the treasurers in the past have agreed to do whatever it takes to see the choir through the many financially difficult times we have encountered."

The next student called upon pointed out the extent of last year's budget cut and its effects on the Choral program. "I'm only a sophomore, but I have seen for myself the detrimental effects last year's budget cuts have left on us in choir. We no longer have enough money to pay for our robe cleanings, and already we have had to cancel two of our previously planned concerts."

I remained calm, for I had anticipated their replies--too calm, for I should have seen more of their responses coming. But I was to wrapped up in my foolish pride. I had told myself that I would not let them get to me, that I would defend my position like a true warrior, that nothing they could do or say would be able to affect me. In my mind I was completely oblivious to what was about to happen. Not only my confident attitude but my world as I knew it was about to be changed forever.

A third student stood up out of turn and outright accused me of being a choir hater. "With all due respect Mr. Treasurer, what do you have against the choir?" I tried to answer, but my mouth just hung wide open as she continued. "What have we ever done to you? Why do you refuse to help us in our time of need? Is it because you don't like our singing or is it because you don't like us?"

Joined by two or three other students she denounced me as deliberately challenging this proposal as a means of getting back at the choir for some unknown evil. The nods and echoes of approval rang out from their crowd of supporters. I was stricken speechless.

The classroom exploded into an uproar of commotion with choir members murmuring against me. I could see it in their beady little eyes; I could feel it in their dark hearts. They wanted me to submit to their will, their society. The President thundered his gavel across the podium, restoring a temporary silence. He then motioned for the secretary to begin taking a vote on the proposal by roll call.

Suddenly, I found myself alone, defending a dead cause against a momentous force. No longer was it a matter of dollars and cents or a simple matter of playing by the rules, but now the issue became one of personal honor, my honor. If I voted against the proposal, these slanderous remarks would follow me for as long as I remained at this school. There was no middle ground, no room for compromise. It was all or nothing, do or die. I could feel the forces of peer pressure emanating from the choir, reaching out to strangle me. Never before had I come across such a force as the one that engulfed me now, a force that had conquered all of its previous enemies. A force controlled by this society that sat before me, that always got what it wanted and indiscriminately "slaughtered" those who would stand in its way.

I had been determined to stand up against the choir, to uphold the financial rule book, in essence to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I walked alone, for I had always walked alone in these battles, invariably believing I had the power of ten thousand men. But instead, it was I who had been reduced to question my belief to so valiantly stand up for the financial rule book; it was I who had been pressured to change my beliefs from "right" to "acceptable." I had promised myself so much, but now I was being forced to concede to a greater force than I could have possibly imagined.

The vote for approval of the proposal was halfway over. Already the secretary had reached the "M's" but no one else in the classroom had cared what these people had voted. They had already sold themselves out with "yes" votes to this twisted association. In my mind they were beyond redemption. All eyes were still fixed on me, on my every movement, my every murmur, for nothing could escape from their predatory stares. I could feel them tormenting me with their deeply intense looks. Looks that at the moment seemed "hideously unnatural," almost unholy, like nothing I had ever seen before. Now I could feel the pressure that caused men to snap and fellow teenagers to give in to the desires of their peers. I could no longer hold out. I could not risk the utter degradation I would heap upon myself by refusing to submit to the will of this society composed of my very own peers.

When the vote finally came to me, I was no longer a man. I had become like a hollow boat, no longer free to move about on my own, but instead pulled about, molded and shaped by the powerful forces of my peers, with no voice of my own anymore, only echoing the sounds of those who had surrendered their will to this "society."

I stood up and obediently stated that I approved of the expenditure. Now it was over, I had conceded to the victors with those few utterances from my lips. I quickly took my seat, never once glancing into the audience. I knew that I had sold my own self out, that I had accepted dishonor for my words, but at least now I would not be degraded henceforth. I would not be looked upon as a traitor to my peers. My name could still be spoken with at least some respect.

The tension and pressure that had so encompassed me before now evaporated and left a sickening air of calm. It was over. This had not been a meeting to discuss an expenditure; instead, it had been a witch hunt for those who thought they could stand against this society. A witch hunt for those like me, who dared to think they had the power and the strength to stand alone.

A week later I was told that the principal was looking into the legality of the expenditure matter. But it no longer concerned me now. I had failed the test. I could not summon the strength to stand against this "society" in my world. I had learned that there was no way to beat it, no way to break its spirit, and no way to compromise with it. This society could take the courage of the strongest men and bend them to their breaking point, molding and shaping them into whatever it willed. In this world where I lived a part of my life each and every day this society of the majority reigned omnipotent. This was the way it had always been and no one, not even I, would ever be able to change that.