Our In Between

3 The Art of Flying

It was June 18th, 2014.

Only 2 days left for the 74th anniversary of our High School, Hidalgo's School of Arts and 3 days left for our graduation.

The white-stippled walls of the entrance were covered with paintings, posters, mosics and other art pieces made by our own students.

From the ground floor we could hear Chopin's Nocturne op2, occasionally the Spring Waltz, along with the sound of feet tiptoeing in sync. This happened 3 times a week, Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays, at 10 o'clock.

Looking out the windows of the second floor, one could easily spot the Cinema Club, as always, working on one of their short films. Cut!

During lunch break, the stairs up to the third floor would be filled with singing voices and acustic guitars in unison. That familiar sound could only come from the music students, jamming to some Txarango, Efecto Pasillo or anything that would bring back people from their graves and make them dance their life regrets away.

It was Friday, 4pm to be more precise, which often meant: rehearsal time, but, this time, it was not a regular one. Both, the Performing and the Fine arts departments had teamed up to prepare a special stage for the anniversary, as well as, for our graduation ceremonies.

That Firday afternoon, I was making my way to our amphitheatre, which was at the back of the old building.
Walking alone through the now empty hallways, a wave of souvenirs hit me like a truck.

Here we go again, one last time.
I clenched my fist.
Struggling to keep my composure.
A war between joy and sadness was taking place inside me. Fighting back my tears, I turned the doorknob and sat quietly at the back of the auditorium. Rehearsals had already started. Why didn't I join straight away? Because my voice had turned hoarse a week ago. Was that going to stop me from going to our last reheasal? Oh Hell no! Satan, Not today! Was I supposed to be there? Not really...Mrs Sanchez had specifically told me to stay home and rest before damaging my vocal chords any further. Did I listen? I guess my presence there was self explanatory.

I'm going to miss this place so freaking much! Two years flew by so quickly.

It might sound like I was being sarcastic, but I was really not. High School in Spain is only a 2-year-long period, and for me those were the best 2 years of my life so far.
High School can be a pain in the arse. Sleepless nights studying, lots of coffee and lots of stress, people not being very nice to you, annoying teachers,etc.

But how could I take for granted a chance to study something I had always loved?

One of my biggest dreams had always been to study performing arts, I desperately longed for an improvement, singing skills wise. Obviously, singing in the shower doesn't count, and drama and music subjects at school had never been enough to acquire a good level. Unfortunately, at home we couldn't afford to pay after-school lessons for me. So, after class, I'd just go to granny's and take care of my two little monsters, while others would go to their sport training, dance practices or piano lessons. I'm not ungrateful tho, my parents have always given their entire being for me and Luz. They've always worked their hardest so they could ensure our well-being and bright future. But it was hard for them to see their eldest daughter give up on her dreams so young.

"My little escarole, I heard of a new music academy. They just opened a few days ago. If you want we can go check out how's it, and take a look at the prices" Dad would say, trying to find a way for me to get into a music academy.