Write: Standing Up

One of my dreams as a child was to be a singer. I remember standing on a stool as a kid and singing a concert for my parents with a hair brush. I went through many years of choir and a summer of private lessons. I had a solo in middle school. But there has always been a hitch in my plans, a hitch to the point where I abandoned the goal very early on. Of course, I'm sure my interest in science and literature helped as well.

That solo? I'm pretty sure someone else sang it because I suffer stage fright. It is absolutely terrifying for me to stand in front of a group of people and open myself up that way. I'm working on it. I let people hear me sing along to the radio now. And I don't mind if I randomly sing lyrics around a few people.

Today's Write is fiction, something that may happen in the future, something that will take Courage to do. What do you need courage for?




I found a spot out of the way, out of the noise. I took a deep breath, the buzz of the others circling around me. The hush of dozens of people trying to speak quietly but yet be heard over the noise was deafening. I just needed a few minutes of quiet. Everything was going on at once.

I was so happy when I was chosen. Me. I was good enough for a solo in front of a packed audience. It was my time, a validation of all I had been working for. I was on cloud nine. Then I realized I was picked for a solo in front of a packed audience. All those people staring at me, waiting for me, judging me. I was going to be responsible for their entertainment, the magic of the show, the memories and opinions.

My thoughts were drown out by applause and the swish of the curtains. The dancers and musicians trooped off the stage in a mad rush. I almost let them carry me away in the current, but clung to my piece of wall. I took a deep breath, filling my belly. The rest of the group filed on stage, each giving me a quick smile and encouragement.

I was chosen. I was good enough.