I was just 9, nervously waiting backstage, looking out into the audience waiting for my spotlight dance. Standing behind the dark drooping curtains that split the stage from the back stage chaos, I stood there watching and waiting for my turn. Watching the girl before me, who was wearing a white tutu with silver glitter slatted everywhere that glistened so brightly which danced around with her as she leaped and turned on the stage as she spun around graciously on the waxed, wooden floor which shimmered from the reflection of the lights. I could feel the heat from the beaming lights shining down onto the stage covered in steam which was floating around like clouds. I was going to be under those lights in five minutes. My heart was beating faster and faster by the second, like a drum on repeat.
It was my first ever performance on my own, I was on last, I stood there with my legs crossed, they couldn’t move. Suddenly I thought of my mummy and daddy and the rest of my family sitting there with big smiles on there faces waiting for me to step onto the stage and be so proud of me. Eagerly waiting for the cheering and whistling as they said my name for my time to perform I started to think of my parents and what they done to get me here today. I remember my mummy and daddy telling me before they left for me to perform, be brave and do your best and don’t forget to smile, like the whole song depended on it; otherwise the dance would be nothing, like a fire fly gliding around but without its light. I played my song routine over and over in my head making sure I knew every note. Suddenly I heard my name was called through a microphone echoing from wall to wall. The theatre was bigger than I ever imagined. Heavy, dark red curtains swept down from the ceiling to the stage. Posh red seats where hundreds of people where sitting, glaring at the stage. As I went to walk on, the nerves hit me, I was still frozen, like I was being held back, I didn’t know what to do until I...
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