Sing a solo at the lower school closing ceremony

Sophie A Bowring

Everything suddenly went quiet as I stepped up onto the stage while Mrs. Murray introduced me and my song.

My legs were shaking and my hands wouldn't stop moving. I saw a sea of faces sitting patiently in front of me. My brain was telling me to go, to reach for the door at the back of the school hall, to run at full speed, fly through the double doors and escape out of the suffocating mass of the pink walls.

Then, just as Mrs Murray stared to play the first bars of my song, I saw my mum's face. She looked so proud and had a smile as big as the moon that shone from ear to ear. I knew I had to stay strong. I was going to do it for her.

I glanced quickly at the sheets of music on the stand in front of me. The notes ran into each other and the words began to go blurry. I knew the introduction was coming to an end, and my first words were about to come up.

I opened my mouth and let a series of notes fall gently. I was concentrating so hard on getting each and every word, note, dynamic and accent completely correct. I wasn't going to let all my hard work and effort be ruined by a careless mistake.

As I started to relax more, my mind started wondering. I looked at the audience properly for the first time. I studied the rows of chairs with people of all different sizes sifting in them. I saw my babysitter sitting in the third row; she was sitting with her family. She was there to see her younger sister at the closing ceremony too.

Thoughts were going through my head at 100mph, but even when I was thinking them I didn't stop singing. It was a strange feeling, almost as if my body was singing for me. I was doing it automatically. I had practised the music so hard I knew every word of by heart, but I glanced a few times at the music just in case my mind went blank. I was so proud to be standing up there. To be picked as one of the primary 7s to perform at the beginning of the closing ceremony.

I had such a mixture of emotions at that point: ones of sadness as I knew this was going to be my last Lower School closing ceremony. On the other hand I felt happy as I knew I was moving on - leaving the ups and downs of the year before being me and starting afresh.

Just as the second verse began, all the nerves I had had before vanished into thin air. I glanced over to my mum and I could tell she was proud, as well as happy. I had picked the song for her; it was called Dalmatian Cradle Song. I was now very much enjoying the whole experience, and I could feel the confidence filling up inside of me.

The words of the song were kind and soft, as if you were singing lullabies to a baby to lull it off too sleep.

Just then I noticed I was coming up to my last verse. I was determined to give it my all, and I wasn't going to waste a single second or moment. I had about a minute left, to share my song and what it meant to me and the feelings I was feeling to the audience. This was one time I did wan them to cry! But not tears of sadness, but tears of understanding for the mother that was trying to get her baby off to sleep in the song.

After I had finished everyone started clapping and cheering. I had done it, I had got through it! I glanced over towards my mum and at that point we were both definitely thinking the same thing, as at that exact moment we both let out a huge sign of relief! As I stepped down from the stage and returned back to my seat I felt so proud! I had always jumped at every opportunity to audition, but I had never got through.

Inside I knew I could do it. When it came to an audition though my voice just cracked I just couldn't focus. I knew I had to build my confidence up so for my 10th birthday I asked for singing lessons. They had obviously paid off!

The rest of the ceremony went so well. Even though I didn't win any prizes or get any cups it didn't matter one bit to me. I was so proud of my friends that did get prizes! The only thing that mattered was that I did my solo and that I did my very best!

Now I still attend my weekly singing lessons and I have had a few solos and a trio after that, as well as playing four other instruments. Music means so much to me and I'm so happy that I managed to share that with my audience. When I play the piano I get the same sort of feelings, but at the same time so very different. It feels as if I'm in a dream, far away from my surroundings. My cares and worries seem to drift away in to nothingness, as I let my fingers caress the black and white keys. I try to put as much emotion into my playing as possible. My favourite is when I play music by Ludovico Einaudi. I love trilling and skipping through his pieces that are crafted with so much care and emotion. I feel that it is my duty to play the music as he would have liked, so I try my best to make the music sound exactly how he would have played it or wanted it to sound. My friends give me stick for liking classical music, but I don't let it bother me. I'm open minded enough to realise that we are all different and all like different things. Music is my escape.

Though this day, experience or just playing music in general I have learnt that there are many ways of expressing yourself, none of which can be called right or wrong. Everyone is individual and everyone likes different things.