"On deck is number 4-1-2, Thomas Johnson High School," the voice in the loudspeaker boomed.
Just then, all my nerves that I had successfully suppressed for the past week leading up to this moment unfettered itself from its chains and mingled with the feelings of excitement. A huge adrenaline rush raced through my body as I felt a cold tingling sensation running up my spine and down my hands. . My heart thumped against my ribcage like a huge steel drum. The next five minutes as we stood behind the heavy black curtains felt like an eternity. I told myself to breathe-long deep breaths.
Waiting backstage is always the hardest part. When I am are onstage and the music starts playing and my body starts moving, I get lost in my own daydream. But when I am backstage, I am still in reality, and all my emotions and thoughts surface.
Girls clustered around the corners, reminding each other of the steps. You could almost smell the nervousness of the girls and their coaches from their whispers mixed with a perfume of sweat. Some were adorned in bright, sequined costumes, wearing heavy, colorful stage makeup: the jazz dancers. Others were modeling baggy trousers and loose black T-shirts. They were the hip-hop dancers. My teammates and I, standing behind the opening of the curtain that served as a barrier between the real and the surreal, were wearing silver tops with red and black graffiti print, baggy red pants, and black hip-hop shoes. We checked each other's makeup and hair, making sure nothing was amiss.
I paced back and forth by in a small circle, trying not to bump into the other girls in the crowded space. I went over the choreography in my head for the hundredth time that day. Although I had practiced the routine so many times that I sometimes dreamt about it while sleeping, I always feared that I would forget when I got on stage.
Then the music in the background stopped. The team before us had finished and the theatre sounded with a round of applause. I hurried over to the rest of my teammates, and we all wished each other good luck. The team that was just performing came running off stage, grinning and out of breath.
It was now our turn.
"Smile and have fun, girls," my coach said as she watched us cross through the curtains into the other dimension. She looked like a proud mother watching her children leave home for the first time.
Bright white spotlights shown in our faces, and inundated the stage as the group of us five girls marched onto the stage in unison, like a brigade of soldiers preparing for a mission, determined and strong. The wood squeaked under our footsteps. The hall filled with a thundering sound of applause that resonated down the corridors. I glanced out into the audience and saw the black silhouettes of the spectators eagerly awaiting our performance. There must have been more than five hundred people.
I was so exhilarated! I had been waiting for this moment for five years, ever since that time I saw Lindsay on the stage. Now, here I was standing on the center of the stage, living out my dreams. I felt like a movie star tossed into the welcoming limelight. The sporadic flashes of photography were like paparazzi cameras, capturing the moment forever.
I walked to my starting position on the upper left corner of the stage, then glanced around at my teammates to make sure we were all ready. We assumed our starting positions. Mine was I bowed my heads, closed my eyes, and waited. The crowd grew silent and the lights dimmed to a dark blue. All of a sudden, the first beat of the music echoed through the auditorium. We stomped on the wooden floor with a deafening thud, and the crowd gasped as the
Just then, all my nerves that I had successfully suppressed for the past week leading up to this moment unfettered itself from its chains and mingled with the feelings of excitement. A huge adrenaline rush raced through my body as I felt a cold tingling sensation running up my spine and down my hands. . My heart thumped against my ribcage like a huge steel drum. The next five minutes as we stood behind the heavy black curtains felt like an eternity. I told myself to breathe-long deep breaths.
Waiting backstage is always the hardest part. When I am are onstage and the music starts playing and my body starts moving, I get lost in my own daydream. But when I am backstage, I am still in reality, and all my emotions and thoughts surface.
Girls clustered around the corners, reminding each other of the steps. You could almost smell the nervousness of the girls and their coaches from their whispers mixed with a perfume of sweat. Some were adorned in bright, sequined costumes, wearing heavy, colorful stage makeup: the jazz dancers. Others were modeling baggy trousers and loose black T-shirts. They were the hip-hop dancers. My teammates and I, standing behind the opening of the curtain that served as a barrier between the real and the surreal, were wearing silver tops with red and black graffiti print, baggy red pants, and black hip-hop shoes. We checked each other's makeup and hair, making sure nothing was amiss.
I paced back and forth by in a small circle, trying not to bump into the other girls in the crowded space. I went over the choreography in my head for the hundredth time that day. Although I had practiced the routine so many times that I sometimes dreamt about it while sleeping, I always feared that I would forget when I got on stage.
Then the music in the background stopped. The team before us had finished and the theatre sounded with a round of applause. I hurried over to the rest of my teammates, and we all wished each other good luck. The team that was just performing came running off stage, grinning and out of breath.
It was now our turn.
"Smile and have fun, girls," my coach said as she watched us cross through the curtains into the other dimension. She looked like a proud mother watching her children leave home for the first time.
Bright white spotlights shown in our faces, and inundated the stage as the group of us five girls marched onto the stage in unison, like a brigade of soldiers preparing for a mission, determined and strong. The wood squeaked under our footsteps. The hall filled with a thundering sound of applause that resonated down the corridors. I glanced out into the audience and saw the black silhouettes of the spectators eagerly awaiting our performance. There must have been more than five hundred people.
I was so exhilarated! I had been waiting for this moment for five years, ever since that time I saw Lindsay on the stage. Now, here I was standing on the center of the stage, living out my dreams. I felt like a movie star tossed into the welcoming limelight. The sporadic flashes of photography were like paparazzi cameras, capturing the moment forever.
I walked to my starting position on the upper left corner of the stage, then glanced around at my teammates to make sure we were all ready. We assumed our starting positions. Mine was I bowed my heads, closed my eyes, and waited. The crowd grew silent and the lights dimmed to a dark blue. All of a sudden, the first beat of the music echoed through the auditorium. We stomped on the wooden floor with a deafening thud, and the crowd gasped as the