Personal Narrative: An Ice Skater

A bow flying across the strings, fingers dancing neatly across polished wood, the sound of a violin softly singing. It should have been as simple as that. It should have. If only I had known of the obstacles that I would have had to face that day.

Saturday, October 17: TMEA All Region 18 Auditions. It was pure terror; the equivalent of a twelve-headed dragon, and I was the helpless knight unable to finish it off. I started to drift off as the slow tick-tock of the clock dulled my conscience. My mind was forced back into reality when the I heard the supervisor call out my number, addressing me to start playing.

Breathe. Bow, balanced cautiously on the string. Fingers, placed neatly upon the sweat-stained fingerboard. This was it. This was what tedious hours of practicing, and

Unwaveringly I lashed out the bow against the hard metal strings. My hands were no longer a part of me, but were on ice skates, and my strings were no more than strips of ice. For a second in time it seemed as if I would slay the dragon and come out victorious. But moments later, my hands faltered. Sheer panic coursed through me, and I was an ice skater, making the wrong move on thin ice.

No amount of practice could’ve prepared me for this. A sense of failure weighed down my heart. Breathe. Timidly, I placed my trembling fingers back on the strings, and for the second time, I dragged the bow downwards. Ambivalent at first, like a flower not quite sure if it wants to bloom or not. Soon my fears left me as I brazenly brandished the hairs of my bow across the strings. I finished with more bravado than ever, my determination ushering me forward. The last note ringed through my ear–sharp enough to shatter a glass.

Obstacles could obstruct my view of my goal. But all I needed was a bow, a violin, and a set of strings to hurtle over them. From that moment on, I remembered, the show must go on, even if it doesn’t go as planned. It’ll always end up right in the