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Cheer Practice

School sucks. There are good days and bad days but usually it just sucks. Roll out of bed early and sleep deprived to be abandoned at school, crammed with information and stress. Its afterschool I live for. When that last bell chimes and everyone leaves, I go to cheer practice. Cheer practice. In that big big empty room that used to be a theatre, with its blue blue mats full of sweat, lint and, determination. Before practice I put my binder and books in a locker, trading it in for my two hours of freedom, lock it up. I change out of my restrictive school clothes, into whatever. I put my hair up, each dead strand a worry, covered in layers of dye like a jawbreaker, layers of problems and stress, hanging around my head contaminating my thoughts, I put it up in one study little hair tie, put them away, tie them up. I put on my cheer shoes, light as nothing and float on my white white shoes all the way to cheer practice. Cheer practice, in that big big room with high high ceilings. Everything put aside, locked up, tied up, ready to cheer when we step on those deep blue mats. Suddenly our life’s are in the hands of our teammates, our coach, and those blue blue mats, they catch us when we fall, when were thrown, or dropped. School sucks, cheer practice doesn’t. Cheer practice, that’s where I belong. My heart beats in eight counts as I stumble through my day waiting for cheer practice.




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