“We are now ready for performance of team number 12. Your music is on.”
The last words I hear before the longest three seconds of my life.
My heart is pumping and my adrenaline is racing.
I can feel the presence of my teammates next to me in formation.
I imagine all the practice that came before this moment.
All the sweat, tears, and long nights that have let right now.
I have zoned out all the cheering and I hear only the sound of my panting breath.
Will I make a mistake? Will I perform perfectly? What’s the first move?
A million thoughts are sprinting through my head and I just want to dance.
After what seems like minutes later, the music plays, and I begin.
I smile stretches across my face as I stare into the eyes of the judges.
I am dancing; I am doing to routine flawlessly. How?
Muscle memory. Of course. I have done this routine a million times.
This feeling is amazing. It’s like I could go on forever.
Excitement is beaming through me and the sound of cheering is blaring in my ears.
Then, all of a sudden, I stop dancing. I don’t remember anything.
Everyone around me is moving, but I’m stuck. I can’t go anywhere.
I begin panic and trying to remember the moves, and I can’t, I just can’t.
I stand there, confused and hopeless.
I can hear my teammates yelling my name, “Kelsey what are you doing!”
I begin crying and frantically apologizing. Twisting and turning trying to get back into the routine.
I ruined everything. I messed up and it’s my entire fault.
Second later, the loudest noise screams in my ear.
My alarm clock... it’s time to leave for state.