I was sweating down my back, and the humidity never helped either. The sun beamed onto me, and I was just waiting my turn to blow the crowd away with a cover song “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World. Actually, I was near an anxiety attack. I wasn't quite sure why I agreed to this. I loved singing and all that but my nerves were getting to me and – the last band finished. They wrote and original.. I did too, but an original and a cover song. I got my acoustic guitar and set it up. Strumming it, the speakers blared with it.
I started playing chords, trying to pretend the crowd wasn't there, like I was in my room sitting on my bed again, but the microphone echoed, and the guitar rung loud. By the chorus, my mind was clear.
Except I was less happy dealing with my introduction to my original. I opened my mouth, and not to sing. “That was a cover song! The Middle by Jimmy Eat World!” People standing around watched me with patience. I smiled at them “Any one here a rock n' roll fan?!” a few people raised their hands, a few people hollered at me.
“Well,” I paused, strumming a chord, “I am so sorry to disappoint, but I'm only 40% rock.”
I was so delighted when I heard the right thing back to me, “What's the other percentages!?”
I grinned, pulling my hair back, propping my guitar on my lap. “40% rock, right? Well I'm 50% punk, 9% alternative, and 1% pop. Heckle at me, only, if only, you wish to hear this... mixture..” I glanced around the crowd, and surprisingly, some had out their cameras, and some were... telling me to get off the stage, and booing at me and such. “I thought you guys could do better, but you get my cheap song for the effort..”
And I sang. There was nothing to it. I felt okay. And when my vocals no longer had words left to sing, I stood. “Thank you!” I said “My name is Carrisa Owan, in cause you were at all curious.”
and the audience cheered. I just felt so accomplished. I went down the stairs back stage, and someone stopped me. “You did a grrreat job.” (in a non sarcastic tone, actually.) Of stage, all the anxiety came flooding back to me, and I guess he saw that.
“There is no need to be scared! I go to your school. I'm a freshman, and if I'm not mistaken, you're in middle school. I've been in the talent show a couple times.”
“Me too.” I breathed, “What did you do?”
“Drums. I won second place one year! The person who won first place well deserved it” He grinned, oh so proud of himself. I wasn't impressed, and I wanted to get home.
“I need to go. I have to walk home and be there by 7:00” my house was right down the road.
“I'll see you at school!” He yelled. I waved back at him, walking off. A little ways away, I realized that I was the person who won first place that year. I mean, I always tried to forget it, because parents issues, but I smiled. He actually figured I deserved it.
Arriving home, I was immediately put to work. (Wash the dishes, sweep and mop the floor, clean the windows, wash the walls, bathe Baby the boxer, feed Baby, and all while baby sitting my 5 year old little sister.) Performing did not come cheap. My father would always say if I did all this, it'd keep me humble, and if I really wanted to achieve my goals, I would be able to keep up with house work.
My house was always spotless, and Lizzy (5-year-old sister) didn't dare disobey me, of course, I'm not sure about when she gets older, but as for now, she is the sweetest thing ever. Anyway, I pretty glad I acknowledged a drummer today. Maybe eventually we can form a band, or I'm just getting my hopes up again.
