Short little description for school
word length: 345
Lincoln Hall Jitters
Mind ablaze, thoughts rushing through like the Niagara Fall, I nervously clutch onto my leather incased iPod as I sit perched on top of a rickety wooden-table. My hands, trembling ever so slightly, tap the glaring-bright screen a few times, causing blaring music to ring out of the white ear buds, tuning out the background. My eyes, rivet intently at the bright screen, scans through the minuscule, jet black words, attempting to put my mind at ease but to no avail. My pulse continues to thump rapidly, as if I just ran a mile, and I mutter to myself, "You're acting like this is the first time you've performed. This is pathetic; you're been on stage dozens of times already. You should be used to it now, so act like you own the stage!" Yet my mind decides to rebel by sending forth a certain train of thought: "It is completely different, it's the Lincoln Hall, the legendary stage that even people all the way from China flew over to watch and perform on; who would be scared to death?" People, ignorant of my internal battle, crowded around the flat screen TV, all stares intently at the live video of the piano performance occurring right next door. A woman, dressed in a navy-blue suit, announces quietly, "Next up, Sophia Wu…" When I hear my name, I tear off my ear buds none too gently, stuff my iPod into my fat coat pocket filled with papers and pens, and confidently stride to the edge of the bright red stage curtains. Thunderous applause rips through the once silent room as the performer, a young girl, somber and frowning, stalks off stage. With one foot over the other, I saunter under the bright lights, heart pounding erratically, sketches a quick bow, and takes a seat on the ivory piano bench. I quickly make a few adjustments to my seat, take a deep breath, place my hands nimbly onto the ebony and ivory keys, and start to pour my soul out for the whole audience to hear. It's showtime!