Ken Bone : The Inside Story | Teen Ink

Ken Bone : The Inside Story

November 7, 2016
By Pellie, Kalamazoo, Michigan
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Pellie, Kalamazoo, Michigan
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The TV crackles to life as I press the big red power button on the remote.  As the TV catches up to the cable box I start to hear the news anchor yelling at some old white dude about politics.  It has been this way for the last couple of weeks.  When my ears finally decide to stop tuning them out I hear what they are yelling about.  The old white guy is yelling that Cillary Hlinton is a crooked sell-out.  The news anchor is obviously Democratic as she seems so passionate about defending Hlinton. 
I thought people that work for news companies weren’t suppose to be bias.  She must have missed the memo, I think to myself.  The election is coming up in a few days, three days to be exact.  The two candidates, Tonald Drump and Cillary Hlinton, have been in a heated race so far.  They both have had their fair share of scandals.  Hlinton's campaign has been all about how bad of a person Drump is while Drump’s campaign has been how he can “Make America Great Again”.
The debates have been a mess this year.  I actually went to one, the second one to be exact.  I even got to ask a question, and I know what you’re thinking, “How cool Ken,  I would love to have asked a question.” well let me stop you there, when I asked that question America fell in love with me.  It hasn’t been as cool as you think it would be.  It turned me into a meme.  People have been calling me asking me where I got my red sweater.  It’s horrible.
I snap back to reality to see Drump and Hlinton on screen, they are showing highlights from last week's debate. I still don’t know who I am voting for.  Drump has better policies but is a complete dirt-bag.  Hlinton is a sell-out who hasn’t done anything in her 30 years in the government but she is a better politician.  How does America not have anyone better than these two.  Out of all 318.9 million people in America these two idiot are the best we have to offer.  It’s a little pitiful.  I turn the TV back off, roll over on my side, and fall asleep.

Beep!  Beep!  Beep!  My hand finds the sleep button on the alarm clock.  It’s election day, and I’m not excited.  I get out of my bed, jump in the shower, brush my teeth, and throw on my red sweater.  If I don’t wear this today I may be killed by a mob of angry people.  I pour myself a bowl of Special K Cereal and grab a spoon.  I turn the TV on and sit down in my recliner.  It’s made out of a nice brown leather, which has been worn perfectly as I have had it for five years now.  It may be falling apart a little but I still like it.
As expected all of the news channels are doing stories on the election.  On Fox News they have four old white dudes yelling at each other.  On CNN they have a map of the expected outcome, it is still within the margin of error.  On my local new channel they are talking about all of the local things we are voting for as well, they must know that they don’t have any chance of competing with the other news giants as the anchor looks half asleep.
Once I’m done eating I put my bowl in the sink and grab my keys.  I jingle them a little.  My three cats, Ginger, Salt, and Pepper, come over to me.  Salt purrs and rubs up against my leg, Pepper jumps up and paws at the keys, and Ginger jumps on Salt.  They are my family.  I rub all of their heads and say, “I’ll be back soon my babies.”  I’m the crazy cat lady of my family.
I arrive at the Walmart that is holding the vote for our little county.  It isn’t the biggest Walmart but it gets the job done.  I walk in through the automatic doors and am greeted by a round of applause.  People I don’t even know are clapping.  A cheer starts somewhere in the line waiting for a booth. 
“A true American hero has arrived!” They shout, or, “Who are you voting for Ken?” some even yell, “I love you Ken.”  The guy in front of the line is waving his hands like crazy, he wants me to go up to the front of the line.
I slowly lumber up to the front, I put a fake smile on my face and try to make it look real.  Once I get up to the front one person walks out of one of the booths.  I mumble, “Thanks.” to the guy that let me cut.  Once inside to booth I notice how sweaty my palms are.  I wipe them on my pants and grab the pen and start to fill out all of the local people.  As I slowly make my way down I become more and more nervous.
It feels like I’ve been in there for several years before I get to the end of the ballot.  Finally, though, I do make it down to the final candidates.  Drump v Hlinton v Gohnson v Jtein v Other _______.  I don’t know why they put an “Other” box.  I put the pen down before I fill in anyone of the circles.  I run over each one of the candidates in my head.
Drump is a dirty bag with good policies.  Hlinton is a sell-out and possibly a criminal.  Gohnson, well Gohnson had the entire “What’s Aleppo” moment.  I rule him out.  Finally Jtein, she seems okay at first but she is polling the lowest so a vote for her is like not voting.  I rule her out too.
That leaves me with Drump and Hlinton.  I know what to do.  I close my eyes, take a deep breath and fill in the circle.  I drop the ballot in the box and put the pen back on the table.  I walk out to the beat of my heart, lubdub lubdub lubdub.  My strides are short and fast.  As I leave I keep my head down and try not to talk to anyone, but, inevitably, someone stops me and ask who I voted for.
I turn and look up, take another deep breath and say, “I voted for…”

The End



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