Personal Narrative

How Blind I Am

It was so quiet backstage I could hear my own heart beating. I was unconsciously gnawing on the ragged flesh inside my cheek from biting down during nightmares. I held my hand out to my friend, seeking her comfort. Actually, more like demanding her comfort. I didn’t know the crowd would be so large. Too late to back out since the months of training were over. Applause bursted through the room. 3 more people before us. That meant six more minutes. I tasted blood.

My throat was parched, my light makeup (while my friends had heavily submerged themselves) was starting to melt off, I kept scraping at my nail polish and I wanted to whistle or hum something so badly. I wanted some music that wasn’t blaring from the speakers to calm me down. I was too much of a wreck to be bored from waiting over 45 minutes. I needed something to distract myself desperately. It was dark and dusty so I couldn’t tell where things were. The green velvet curtain had a little bit of an opening at the edge, big enough to peek through, but small enough to be concealed. Hip hop was bouncing off the walls out there. I try to keep from trembling so I could be silent while getting up, and moving forward. My fellow singers followed me. They just reflected back my own dread.

Don’t look at the audience, don’t look at the audience, don’t look at the audience, and bam, what do I do, look at the audience. Oh you doofus! There was a vast crowd spread across the room. However, that didn’t scare me for some reason. I bent in a little closer and saw that most people were smiling and clapping along with the music. My brain computed that again and again until it found a flaw; if they didn’t like us, they would probably not do either of those things. My tummy got all twisty at the thought. It would be so embarrassing if they didn’t even smile! Bet you wish you didn’t look at the crowd now. I wanted to say that “we are the same person” but the thought just embarrassed me because it would be like arguing with myself. Just then, the boy on stage’s red hat with a long, white cloth flowing from it, had gotten all tangled up and he had to sit down to untangle it. It was not just twisted, it was big-time knotted and winded around him. I bit my lip. The crowd was watching a boy untangle a knot. How embarrassing! My friends though, their eyebrows were raising in pleasure and surprise. How could they be so cruel? Wait, that can’t be true. They are though sometimes stubborn, very polite and kindhearted.

I looked at the audience saw and heard people clapping and cheering for him to go on. At first he seemed to be debating on whether he should or shouldn’t stay on the stage, but now, he was confidently doing his traditional Korean dance.

“You are going to shine girls!” whispered the backstage manager. Wait what? WE were next! What the heck just happened? I needed more time. Period. I forced myself to take deep breaths and remember what happened out there. The crowd just wants a good show. You are in this for a reason. They thought you could give them a good show. So give it to them. That surprised me! I could calm myself instead of yelling internally. Probably just nerves again. I pass my friends their unique and symbolic rings. We straighten our dresses, hand-comb our hair and slowly walk onto the dark stage while the girl in front of the curtain sings on with such a melodious voice. I felt like backing out again since she sounded so good and I didn’t think that I sounded that great.

I got annoyed with myself this time. Why was I too blind to see how amazing the audience was? This time, I just did one of the things I did if I was scared to jump into the water because of height or was scared to run, jump and do a flip in gymnastics. Take one deep breath, two deep breaths and just jump or flip before my mind knew what I was doing. Time won’t go backward so neither will you. You only leave yourself with one choice, do it the best that you can.

Everything started to happen in slow motion. The forest green curtains slowly opened while we walked forward and took our places. Me, facing the middle portion, and my friends taking the other two. I had 15 seconds until I went on. People smiling and waiting. Me clearing my throat. People smiling and waiting. Me holding up the microphone. People smiling and waiting. Lights shining on me. Almost time to show them I have. My palms were getting sweaty and I had this dumb smile plastered on to my face. 3...2...1... go! I open my mouth and I sing. 4 lines. 17 seconds.

My friend was singing, and there was clapping. I looked out. The audience not only wanted a good show, they were supporting us and saying to feel more open and free. How blind was I too miss the fact that they wanted to hear us so they had to support us? How blind was I not to notice that we were selected for a reason? Everyone is clapping while we sing the chorus of our song and soon, the song is over. All the scary nerve lava inside me has been extinguished with all of the kind gestures. We stand in our final pose as applause bursts through the room. I put on my most winning smile to say that I not only acknowledge them but appreciate them all too.

I am about to go back to my seat from introducing the next and final act, but I look at the face of the girl who is about to perform. She looks so frightened with no one to comfort her. I know just the trick. Better that she doesn’t feel scared on stage, so I want to show her the support of the audience. So, after saying her name, I say

“Woo hoo!” into the microphone. Giggles pass through the room since no one has done this before. I start to think it was wrong, when she grins at me and the audience claps for her. I can her face relax as she rises to her toes and starts to dance. I want her to see what I couldn’t when I was blinded by my worries.

I don’t think I can ever look at an audience the same again. I’m glad the boy with the hat was there and I got a chance to be open and happy. This was the 2014 variety show. There was no best, no worst. Just good shows.

1. In this piece of writing, I worked really hard on trying to help the reader capture the meaning of this story. I tried to put my detail into that.

2. Next time, I will try to use the right tense in my story since sometimes I use past tense and sometimes I use present tense. I will be more careful with that.