Support.
Summery: They Don't know what they've done for me.
A/n: Just something I thought up while watching my drumline captain cry the last day of his senior year.
The things you experience here,
They Change You
They don't know how much they've done for me. The Tears run down my face as we place our hands on each other's, we are the drumline, we are a family. My captian places a hand on my back, he flicks a tear away.
"Don't cry kid, we're here to do something great."
I know, I think, I know, you guys have done so much for me; I just don't want it to end.
I just nod and stop the tears. I face backward and let out a breath, sticks at rest position, mind clear. This is what I live for.
Thinking back, I remember myself as the quiet one, couldn't hit the drum right. I had no self-esteem, just coming from a terrible bout of depression, from nothing. They built me up to everything.
A sound check proceeds and my heart begins to race with the excitement of everything. Even as a freshman, I feel like this will be my last time on that floor.
"Charleston Indoor Percussion Ensemble, you may take the floor in finals competition."
It echos over the speakers, my eyes close softly and reopen as the accelerating beginning begins.
The beating of my heart ebbs and floes during the four minute and thirty second show, pushing myself beyond all I could, trust is between the hearts of us. We are the drumline, tight as we can be.
The deceleration at the end calms my heart, lets me breathe in needed air, for I don't breathe when I march. Threats of tears prickle in the corners of my eyes, it's over, I can't believe it.
We sit in the homeroom a few minutes later, my head resting in my hands, tears running down my face. I can't stop it. Our instructors pace the front of the room, saying words of praise, support, of love. They are the only family I have.
We spend time together as one family, watching the world-class drumlines and having a blast, making fun of the lines we don't like, cheering for every line. The tightness between the line is amazing.
Now we stand in a line, one behind the other. Our hearts are racing for awards are being given. I can see him standing up there, his head held high, his hands folded behind his back. Nothin can pull him down. He has done so much for me, bringing me up, pushing me out.
"In second with an 87.6, Charleston Indoor Percussion Ensemble."
A cheer starts in the back of the stands, quickly spreading through out the gym, reverberating in my heart. The captain calmly steps up to take the award, but I can see in his face, his excitement is barely withheld. From that moment I drove myself to be that guy, the one that could do anything.
I held my chin high as I tapped off for the warm up. My senior year, I was captain. The captain I always looked up too, I pushed the drummers, I did what I could for everyone of them.
The even eights calm me as I warm my hands up, relaxing into the beat. This is my last performance. The despair in my heart is covered by my professional nature; I can't let my family see me fall apart.
"Relax," our instructor waves us down, seeing the tension in the others.
"This is for fun, relax, this is the fun one." He puts his hand on my shoulder, I feel a sob rise in my throat, and I cough it back down quickly. I don't want it to end. This is my life; don't let it be over please.
We return to the warm up, my heartbeat slowing with the beat, calming my despair.
We step on the floor; my heart bursts through a dam in my chest. I am excited, I can't hold it down. I smile at my fellow snares, patting the small ones on the back, embracing the older ones. They are my family, my life.
I take my first chart, listening for the pit to begin the piece. The duts fly from my mouth and everyone steps off. Nothing can touch me.
The time goes too fast, I can't remember the time, I did well though. I relax as we are dismissed and pull the large vibes behind me. I make it to the trailer before a tear slips down my face; I couldn't be strong for them. But they wouldn't see me.
We sit in the homeroom, and I hold my chin up, not even listening. I see the smallest freshman in the corner, tears running down her face. She doesn't want it to end either. I silently stand and walk to her, touching her shoulder.
"Don't cry, this isn't the end."
She smiles at me; I know I've done as much for her as my captain did for me.
We stand at the awards, I hold my chin high, my hands clasped behind my back. This moment is everything to me, I can remember it in my freshman year, nothing can stop me.
"In third place, with an 87.9, Charleston Indoor Percussion Ensemble"
I step forward, take the trophy. I looked right into my freshman's eyes, telling her, "You'll be here someday, you'll feel this." She looks back, her eyes tear up and I look away. She will be a captain.
I sit on the bus, alone, everyone is eating dinner. Tears run down my face, my heart beats quickly. I hear footsteps beside me, it's my freshman.
"Hey cap, everything alright?"
I look at her, her bright eyes not missing a beat, her heart still strong.
"Yes, I'm going to miss this, this feeling," I hold up the trophy, "This trophy means more to me than anything else. Because it shows how much you've all done for me."
She smiles and sits in the next seat, "Tell me."
And I was at the performance that she looked her freshman in the eyes, her face saying, "You don't know what you've done for me."
They are my support, they are my life.
They changed me.
