So this is kind of different from what I have written so far, and it's meant to be one chapter, not a story. I like t o write poems sort of, and things about people's emotions, and well I had to write an essaye for school and I did one of my poem-emotion thingys for my essay about being in an orchestra playing the piano, because I do play the piano. Well because I kind of wanted to get this out there and see if you guys liked it I kind of had to change it up a bit, improve it and put it for Mitchie, because I wanted to put it for CR. . . So here is my new and improved essay-poem-emotiony-filler-thingy on Mitchie's view point of being in an orchestra and . . .

MITCHIE'S SIDE:

I sit right behind it. The curtain I mean.

I hum the tune of the first song I'll be playing. La - de - dum.

I let the image of music notes run through my head.

Iscroll my fingers down the cold, black and white keys.

I rest my foot on the gold pedal below me, the one that feels like smooth stone, or marble.

I position myself on the flat, black bench beneath me, moving my hands to where I must start.

And that's when I hear it.

Tap - Tap.

I don't dare look out where the curtains once hung, as the long velvet fabric opens, and the gold trimming on the bottom, brushing against the hard wiiden floor of the stage.

I can hear the cheer of the audience.

I'm afraid to look out.

The conductor taps his wand again.

This time, three taps, to start the song.

Everybody begins to play all at once.

Every musical instrument playing began to get louder.

I could smell the breaths of ten-thousand awed faces.

I could taste the sweat dripping slowly off my upper lip.

I watched as the sheets of music danced before me, making me dizzy, as I tried to forcus on banging my fingers on the right key.

All my heart was put into this and my foot would would once again release me from most of the stress, pulling up from the pedal.

I stopped breathing, because the moment I was awaiting had come.

The spotlight shined on me.

Every thing around me went black.

I was sitting at the front of the stage, where twenty-thousand eyes stared at me, as I played - you guessed it - the piano.

It was my first solo.

The solo that awaited many.

I heard many gasps as I continued to play.

They sounded like branches from a tree, swaying from the wind.

Soon everybody was playing once more, and we played several different songs.

After we were done, we all stood up and bowed.

The clapping was like thunder from a hurricane.

The cheer was like howling from the wind.

And the blinding lights, like from staring at the sun to long.

It felt good.

- Avenue . . .

p.s. check out my romance story called: Gosh Nate Gray !! it's pretty good (or so my reviewers say!)