Flashback

It all happened on a Monday morning; approximately 6:45a.m. It was the most eventful incident to ever occur in my lifetime; it; as in the car accident. I don’t mean just a little bump on the rear end. I mean a head on, car-totaling car wreck.

            I was waiting to be picked up for my weekly car pool for a school activity. At first I was getting a little concerned because they were really late, but then I realized that it wasn’t as late as I thought it was. I finally saw them turn the street corner and I felt somewhat relieved that they were here. I got in the car and and greeted my friends and our parent driver, Mrs. Swithenbank-Harris. Luis, Ellie, and Emily were the three kids I was with, and it was a fun group because we always got along well with each other.

            It was a nice car; a typical family mini-van, but in nice condition. We neared the four-way stop light and slowly came to a stop at the red light. All of a sudden, the car was hit; hard. Another car had seemed to appear out of nowhere. We were rolling across the middle of the street, and ended up at the bottom right next to the median on the other side of the street. I was still conscious, and to this day I’m still unsure of whether I blacked out or not because I hit my head on the window. For the most part, everyone was fine. But both Ellie and Emily had asthma, and when the car was hit, they hit the seats in front of them and got the wind knocked out of them. They were struggling for breath; all from the asthma, impact of the hit, and pure shock and panic of the situation.

            Emily had completed a rather impressive science project, and it had sitting in the front seat. When the air bags deployed, the project was utterly destroyed. We’re very grateful Emily decided not to sit in the front seat that day. She’s pretty small, and would’ve been seriously injured.

Other than the bruises on our chests from the seatbelt, we didn’t have any serious injuries. Regardless, give that the car was totaled and we were four sixth graders, it was still an awful experience.

Me

I am unique. I am different. I am proud. Not too proud, though. No, you see, that would be what you would call a vain or immodest person; or perhaps even exaggerated.

I am a dancer. Not the kind that takes classes and wears sparkly outfits. I am a dancer of soul, passion, and love. One who dances freely; wherever, whenever. Call me what you want; but don’t tell me I’m not a dancer just because I don’t take classes. I am MY kind of dancer.

I am not perfect. I am not flawless. I was born this way. Do not judge. Why, you ask? Well, simply look around. No one is perfect; we are all equal.

I am a singer. I practice until I can’t practice anymore; passionate about what I do. I sing until my vocal chords are about to snap. I am not a “try hard”, or a so called “over achiever”. I merely work for what I want.

Lastly, I am me. I am strong, yet weak. Bold, yet afraid. My heart is light, yet heavy. I am like a turtle; the candy, of course; Hard on the outside, soft on the inside. Don’t ask why. It’s who I am. As I said before: no one is perfect.

Remembering my Favorite Moments.

There was the heat between us. By heat, I mean not only as in the passion between us, but the actual hotness of his lips on mine. If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can still feel it. I’ll never forget that.

 

The headlights; blaring white lights coming right at me. Then it hit; two tons of metal, pulverizing my own metal cage I was in. Suddenly, darkness; that’s when I knew it was bad.

 

There were butterflies in my stomach as we sat there in the movie theatre. I wasn’t actually watching the movie; I’m not sure if he was. I was too focused on the fact that I was sitting next to a boy, alone, in a dark movie theatre. ‘I wonder if he’ll pull any moves’, I thought. Sure enough, he started to put his arm around me. He accidently hit me in head instead. Well, that went well.

 

He was so warm. The warmth of his arms as he held me, letting me sob into his shoulder. I was so embarrassed, but he said it was okay, to just let it out. I was crying to him about a boy I liked; Typical teenage romance woes. It’s quite ironic, actually. I ended up liking the boy who comforted me, and let go of the one who made me cry.

 

I was filled with so much happiness; the feeling of shock, accomplishment, and joy all at the same time. I scanned the list for my name, and there it was, right next to the part I wanted. I’d worked hard for it, too. Working hard for what you want, and getting it? That’s the most gratifying feeling in the world; especially when it’s for a long awaited part in the school musical.

Show Choir

Two words; Show Choir. It’s a place to let loose, and be who you want to be without anyone judging you. A place where you can step on stage, and for at least 15 simple minutes, feel like royalty. Somewhere where you can sing your heart out; dance like nobody’s watching; and get applause for it. THAT is Show Choir.

People are so stereo-typical about show choir kids. That we’re stuck up; And only sing cheesy songs. Well, let me tell you something right now; we are more than that. We work hard to do what we do. So go ahead and tell me that and eight hour choreography rehearsal is easy. You couldn’t be more wrong. It’s like a work out.

Memorizing choreography is just a small part of it. Don’t forget the vocal part. You have to hit every note exactly, to make sure it sounds amazing. Don’t even get me started on facial expressions. You have to “pull” the audience in. Make them believe the words you’re saying.

 It’s worth it, though; all that hard work; whether you win or not. You become a family, looking out for each other, helping each other with the things we don’t understand. No matter what, we stick together.

Bottom line, Show Choir isn’t just a term. It’s a sport, a pastime, a workout, an enjoyment, a big part of my life. It’s just as important as football, or dance team, or mock trial. It’s what I love to do, and I’ll strive to do the best I possibly can.