Choir

"All I wanted was to sing to God. He gave me that longing... and then made me mute. Why? Tell me that. If He didn't want me to praise him with music, why implant the desire? Like a lust in my body! And then deny me the talent?"
-Salieri

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I am going to throw up.

I look around the room, and many faces look back. Faces that are above me, sitting on plastic thrones.

My stomach goes weak, and I feel like I hadn't eaten in weeks. I mentally ask the bile to kindly remove itself from my throat. My head starts hurting, I can't think, and everything is spinning. Tears come to my eyes, and I look away, wiping them off.

I take another look at everyone. They are waiting, expecting something good. The teacher plays the piano slowly, and asks me to sing along.

I open my mouth and allow the notes to work their way out of my mouth. Each note is a struggle.

Some girls in the back of the Alto section are mimicking me; one is trying not to laugh. One of the Mezzo Sopranos has nearly fallen off the risers, laughing. A few Baritones are just looking at me, as if asking me why I am even here. Why am I here? I close my eyes, and try to ignore them.

I finish singing the scales, and look at the teacher. Her eyes peer into me.

She says I was very good. She comments on various aspects of my voice (I try not to break down). She asks me if perhaps there is room for me in a JAVA class instead.

I bow my head and thank her for her time. I begin walk out of the classroom, trying not to let the tears fall out of my eyes. Just before I walk out the door, I hear someone say:

"She must have never sung before."