"Nerves" by Tyler R

      Michael had been preparing for months. He knew exactly what he was going to say. Every word was packed into his mind. The words were running on repeat in his head while he drove to the building. He pulled into the parking lot and sat in his car, contemplating what the rest of the night would have in store for him. He sat there for a good while, just thinking. He finally got the urge to get out of his car and start walking. With each footstep Michael took, his anxiety and worries grew. When he finally arrived to the classroom, he opened the door to find a few others preparing, just as he was. The minute he walked into the room, he felt an aura of preparation. Everyone else was doing just as he was. He sat his valuables on a black plastic chair. He grabbed his headphones from his pocket, and after excruciating minutes of untangling, he finally popped the buds into his ears and began to prep. The only music that would put him in the right state of mind was some classic Hip-Hop. As Tupac and Biggie serenaded his ear drums, Michael began to grow confident in himself and his abilities. He had to hype himself up in order to do well. If he did not think he was great, no one else would. He still had about 30 minutes. He took the headphones out of his ears and walked into the back. He could see the lights projecting underneath the curtain. Michael put his earbuds back in and closed his eyes. He was in a deep trance, again, going over the hundreds of words he had to know. He went over each word in chronological order then shut off his music and just began to listen to his surroundings. He could hear the pitter-patter of each foot that came into the room. The thin curtain separating Michael and them could not shut out the sounds of the people’s voices and excitement for what they knew was in store. Michael’s peers began to funnel in, backstage with him. They had all prepared and were ready for the next two hours. These feeble hours meant so much to everyone, especially Michael. The weight of everyone was on his shoulders. He felt everyone on the other side of the curtain was there to see a show, and he had to give it to them. He saw the lights below the curtain flicker, and along with the lights, the murmur of the crowd began to fade as well. He shook out his limbs, pounded his fist on his chest once or twice, and peeled the curtain back, making way for him. He walked out onto the stage, took a deep breath in, a long breath out, the lights went up, and he began his monologue.

“May I be so converted and see with these eyes, I cannot tell, I think not…”