A sea of faces stare up at me. I just stand there, my feet glued to the ground. Someone is talking, but I don't know what they're saying.
"Irene Johnson will be preforming ----------"
I suddenly snap out of it. I scan the crowd, looking for my mother's face. Of course I can't find it. "It's fifty thousand people!" I yell at myself in my head.
"Irene?" Says the announcer. He actually looks worried. I take a deep breath, and head towards the piano. Once I sit down, I feel extremely uncomfortable. The piano is too unfamiliar, the bench to hard and smooth. "Oh well," is my only thought.
I start to play. My hands slide across the keys that are too heavy under my fingers. My voice echoes in the room that's much too large. And I feel wonderful. My singing, smooth as silk. My fingers fly across the keys.
And all to soon, I'm finished. Noise erupts in my ears, loud as a hurricane. I can't believe I did it! And they are all cheering for me. I take a bow, and everything after that is a blur.
I go backstage, pack up, listen to the other performers. Their voices capture the melody perfectly, and their music is... magical. There's no way I'll ever beat them.
But I don't care. Not anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Irene
General FictionIrene is a ghost in her school. She doesn't feel like she belongs in the crowded hallways. She's all alone, despite all the tumult around her. All she can do is finger her necklace and wait for her home, her room, her mother, her music. Those are th...
