'Change'

This feels a lot like that day where I woke up early to vote. I was assigned to my primary school, the place where I had fought the most and lost most of my teeth. I can't remember if I was excited. I was still overwhelmed by sleep and drove there in a haze. Couldn't remember what it was like to cast my vote there the year before. Forgot all the protocol and started wondering if I was doing things right. Was I in a proper dress code? The trees were still majestic, the grass lush. I went in when my name was called and indicated the party I had wanted to win in pencil on a piece of coloured paper, fed it into the transparent ballot box and walked out. A few steps outside the classroom and I realized that I had marked my choice with a tick instead of a cross. Was my vote spoiled? I stared at the screen later in the evening and saw that there were thousands of spoiled votes. I laughed. Before I drove my friend out, his parents warned us to be careful, that it could be dangerous out there, because it was rumoured that some riots were happening in Johor. What had happened could always happen again. It was crazy, what was implied by all those votes. We went out, had the night like we always did, but I think in the back of our minds, all of our minds, we were fearful. We were sure of nothing.