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Eleanor wriggled into an oversized sweatshirt and immediately walked out of the dress she took off, leaving a shape on the floor. She picked up her remote controller from the table and turned off the TV, tossing it on the couch at the same beat.&nbsp;It had been weeks, but the media still made it feel like a happening of yesterday, making her dread turning in her television — in a good way. She picked up her dress and her eyes landed on a news magazine that her assistant had brought alongside her coffee.The National Spotlight was known for its hot delivery of information, hence, a portrait of her wearing her possible best official exterior was beautifully featured on the front cover:Historic Breakthrough: Eleanor Turner shatters the highest glass ceiling, paving the way for a new era of female leadership in the Oval Office.Over the week, she has read variations of the same headline, and could only help but feel grateful that she lived a very private life prior to that, because if she had anything beyond her circle of friends, she would not just mute her phone and keep it faced down at all times, she would have asked for new numbers because her number will be blown up with congratulatory messages and whatnot.&nbsp;In the same fashion as her phone, Eleanor quickly turned the news magazine face down. More than anything, she wanted to unwind and be everything but the first female president. Her concerns were more about what she could do in the office and less about the congratulatory messages and presents.&nbsp;A couple of weeks ago, she informed her assistant to keep the presents that wouldn’t stop coming and help her reply to their notes. She had a knack for personally returning notes like that, but at the moment, they threatened to overwhelm her.&nbsp;One time, she took her time to draft notes as replies to everyone who had taken time to celebrate her on her birthday, paying attention to the hearts she drew all over the letters, ensuring that their names were correctly written and that all the notes were mailed to the correct address.&nbsp;Then, it was feasible because she only had to write a limited number of notes, considering the number of persons she had a write to.&nbsp;Now, she could tell in a heartbeat that it was not a good use of her time. The notes she wrote were based on her personal knowledge of the people, however, these ones were coming from people she didn’t know until she won the election.&nbsp;Eleanor let out a deep sigh, unfolding her legs to use her toes to ring her assistant. Her cross-legged self was savoring the fine taste of the buttery and milky blend in the popcorn she was snacking on. She had requested for it after suddenly craving not just the taste but the relaxation that came from it.&nbsp;Unlike most kids she knew while growing up, she had a deplorable dislike for ice cream. Eleanor would easily engage in ice-cream slandering among her peers in a bid to aggravate them. It worked all the time, and she usually won the argument after citing non-existent data and facts about people who had died from eating ice cream. Those were part of her most cherished childhood memories.Her assistant walked in and dragged her out of her little reverie, Elizabeth must have been knocking for a while and received no response, hence, was forced to walk in like that.&nbsp;Eleanor snapped back to reality and cleared her throat to hide her drifting thoughts.“Can I get another cup of this?” she asked, picking up the book that had been lying on her chest while she daydreamed.&nbsp;“That would be your third one for today, ma’am,” Elizabeth said in a way that sounded like it was more of a question than a sentence.&nbsp;“Third?” Eleanor asked, squeezing her face in an attempt to recall. She remembered but didn’t want to admit it, so she covered it up by checking the time.“It’s spaced out, right?” she asked, jerking her chin towards the clock. It was past 3 PM.Elizabeth understood that Eleanor’s veins flowed with caffeine and was trying to get her to cut it down using every method she thought would be effective. It had helped her minimize it by a cup in four hours or more.&nbsp;“Can I get you a drink that isn’t coffee?” Elizabeth offered, and before Eleanor could protest, she added “You have only a cup left for today.”“Just get me water then,” Eleanor resigned. “And my final cup should be big. Very big.”&nbsp;“Because you’ll miss all of these once you move to the White House,” Elizabeth said with a nod and left.&nbsp;If she refused to feed her boss coffee, she would most definitely find her in the kitchen by midnight making some for herself. She usually did it loudly as if she was trying to announce “Wake up, everyone, I’m making coffee!”&nbsp;What baffled Elizabeth at first was her little sleeping capability. Eleanor didn’t need coffee to stay up till daybreak. She didn’t need coffee the way other people did; it was more like an addiction because it helped her relax.&nbsp;Eleanor was counting down to the day of her inauguration and everything that would come after that. Winning the election was one thing, and working with the outgoing president as the incoming president was another, while becoming the new president was another totally different thing.&nbsp;The position was enviable, but the responsibility she saw ahead of her didn’t make it as mouthwatering as most people thought.&nbsp;An hour before the announcement of results, her mother called her with a remarkable conviction that her daughter was about to become the “most powerful person on Earth” — as she put it. She congratulated her in advance and told her to watch out.The reassurance got her a bit calm, enough to make her sit after endlessly pacing out of panic. She was able to resolve that whatever the outcome, she would still hold her head high and that was exactly how it turned out for her.&nbsp;In minutes, memes and GIFs were flying across social media platforms saying a thing or two about Turner turning history around. Coming across those was the funniest thing about her win, and she loved it.&nbsp;Momentously, Eleanor found herself drifting away with her thoughts, trying to get into her head the feeling and perhaps behavior that would be deemed befitting for the new role.&nbsp;Earlier, she had an interview out of the many requests she usually received, and listened to the interviewer go:“Good day, ladies and gentlemen. Today, we have the privilege of sitting down with President-elect Eleanor Turner, who is promising to make history as the first female President of the United States. President-elect Turner, thank you for joining us. Let's start by delving into your background and motivation. What inspired you to pursue a career in politics and ultimately run for the highest office in the nation?” In the most robotic way ever.&nbsp;She had adjusted in her dress to enable her stay comfortable enough amidst the whole lighting effects on her eyes, after which she wore her most robotic energy to match the response of the interviewer and said her memorized lines in the most convincing way, “thank you for having me. My motivation to enter politics and now stand on the cusp of the presidency stems from a deep-rooted belief in the power of positive change. Growing up, I witnessed the challenges faced by my community—inequality, lack of opportunities, and a voice that often went unheard. These experiences ignited within me a passion to fight for justice and uplift those who have been marginalized.”None of these were false, but if she had to do it her way, she would have said something different. The interview continued for an hour, touching on areas such as her aspirations and background.Eleanor was born and raised in the streets of Michigan, but was desperate to escape the bad memories the city held and the anxiety it triggered.&nbsp;At the age of 7, her mother was officially a single mom because her father had left one day and never came back. They didn’t get better after his disappearance, except for the minimized arguments and less wailing from her mother. The man was a gambler, an alcoholic, and a batterer among many things, but he provided for the family in his little way.&nbsp;He would bring in his win, and they would celebrate, and whenever he lost, he ensured they also had a taste of it by coming home drunk and equipped to beat her mother to pulp.&nbsp;One day, Eleanor had panicked after meeting her mother in the pool of her own blood in the toilet when she got home from school and ran all the way back to school to call her teacher who happened to be the only adult that came across her mind.&nbsp;Her mother tried to hide from her what happened, but she remembered not seeing her baby bump again after that incident. It was years later that she understood that her mother had lost a pregnancy due to the excessive beating she received from her father the day before.&nbsp;When he left, they breathed a sigh of relief, happy that they wouldn’t have to take the brunt of his losses which were getting more frequent.&nbsp;This inspired her to spend the next fifteen years of her life looking for an escape. Eleanor lived for the day she would abandon the bad memories and hardship and the feelings they left in their wake.As a teenager, she chugged several cups of coffee to enable her stay awake to work as a waitress in a strip club after a long day at school and a part-time job in the hairdressing shop. All these, in an attempt to provide for her mom who suffered from one illness to another, randomly passing out and leaving her screaming for help.The following day, the sun’s rays illuminated the sky, finding its way through the openings of her window blinds in a manner that screamed “Rise and shine, girl!”&nbsp;She had her morning rituals to perform before Elizabeth came knocking with her endless list of things to be checked out before the day ran out. Eleanor was adjusting well to the new lifestyle, and was convinced she would even do better as the president after her inauguration in the next few days.&nbsp;Eleanor walked over to the corner of her room and picked up her yoga mat which had been bending helplessly against the wall. She unfolded it and went ahead to assume the position of a monk manifesting his meditation element. She had practiced mindfulness as a way of helping her deal with the trauma from the past, and ever since, it had been a beautiful ride.&nbsp;She sat serenely, tuning out every disquiet as her form gracefully folded into a cross-legged position. The weight of the world seemed to have been momentarily lifted from her shoulders as she settled into a state of tranquil introspection. The relaxation perfectly etched on her well-rested face, a vivid symbol of the otherworldly concentration she was tapping into. She exuded a gentle, yet resolute, aura—an embodiment of both strength and tranquility.Her eyes fluttered shut, allowing her face to reflect the sense of inner peace she felt. On a rhythm, she let deep breaths flow through her, harmonizing with the beat of the universe. Each inhale filled her being with revitalizing energy, while every tension dissipated with each exhale.She would not trade these moments for anything, not even for the intrusive thoughts that came knocking on the doors of her mind, trying to cut her flow.&nbsp;Her posture was impeccable, her spine gently elongated; stretching and reaching to establish a connection beyond the physical realm. It was akin to that of a person firmly rooted in the present, paying attention to the moment while dealing with the past, and solidifying her aspirations and visions for the future in a foundation of mindfulness.She remained in that state for the next 30 minutes, deploying the controller of her mind and increasing the volume of the beautiful songs sung by the birds close by.&nbsp;Performing this ritual for the past few years helped her in more ways than she could think of, it went ahead to become her favorite time of the morning after she struggled with herself for weeks to stop dosing off whenever she assumed the position.&nbsp;Then, she would sit and try to listen to her breath just like every master had encouraged, and she would find herself breathing shallowly as if paying attention to the air filling and escaping her lungs was making her forget how to breathe properly. She would struggle with her breathing until she dosed off.&nbsp;Becoming a master herself was an aftermath of her resilience because each time she caught herself sleeping, she would wake up and start afresh.&nbsp;Eleanor’s resilience manifested in everything she embarked on. She approached each goal with determination and grit that forced her to throw all her life into it to oversee its achievement. This value if hers was part of what helped her become the president-elect of her country.&nbsp;

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The Lesbian President

THEGIRLSOFLAKEVIEWACADEMYLEECUSHING

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Clive Precious

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