This is a part of my My Favorite Mistake essay:
With the remote in his hand, my cousin, hyper from who knows what, bombarded himself on my stomach, remote-first. I know you must be thinking, Oh, how much could a remote hurt? A lot. If you had it chugged into your body, you’d understand. I glared at him, but he was just a baby, he couldn’t understand. Omff…OMFFF…OWWW! That evil face of his laughed innocently in excitement as he crumpled my body, using what little weight he carried.
“The Civil War resulted in more deaths than the Vietnam, Taiwanese, and the….”
The brain automatically tuned out my teacher’s loud, raspy voice (Is that even possible?) as my eyelids drifted down. Fluffy bed sheet covers. Nice, comfy pillows. I couldn’t stop thinking about going into a deep sleep for a long, relaxing and quiet week. That would be nice….
I saw a big, puffy snow white cloud as I fell into the softness and lay there, eyes closed. I wanted to stay here forever, sleep forever. A rainbow fades in as I feel this perfection. Everything’s flawless: the soft breathing of my own body, the light blue sky, my history teacher looming over me….
WHAT?!? Oh, gosh.
My eyes dart open just in time like a sudden movement in a very still place. The bell rings, and I stumble out if my seat. I look at the clock. 10 am?!? I’m gonna have trouble surviving this really long day….
My heart pounds as I hear, “Next onstage, number 7486, Black Roses Red.”
I am pushed onstage before I forget and pull out a wide grin on my face before the almost-too-familiar music plays. Without even having to think, I start dancing. I’m drifting, gliding, and rushing all over the stage, feeling too confident in myself.
Then, before I know it, I trip over my toe…and fall.
I pull myself back together and just stand for a second, breaking my connection with the music and forgetting what to do next. My brain races, but it won’t answer me. How could this have happened?!? I force my stubborn body to start moving again— oh, thank god! It may not be perfect, but I’m just glad I’m not standing there like a freak staring at the audience with a blank face.
The dance ends, and I run offstage immediately after my halfway nod to the judges. I’m doomed. My teacher and parents try and reassure me, but of course, it doesn’t help. I hear the voice of my mom saying, “Well, there’s always next time!” as I get changed and wait for the awards ceremony.