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Writing Prompt #22
write about the best day of your life to make it seem like the worse day of your life.
and vise versa.
I hated my dress. I hated how old it made me look. It was dark and long, not suited for a young girl like me. What even made me even more miserable was the fact that my forehead had to be shown to the audience. Who wants to see a forehead shiny by all the oil under glaring stage lights? But the best thing about this whole field trip dragging me out of my comfort zone? I had to sing a damn solo with notes that only dolphins could appreciate. My voice was one of the most irritating things I have ever heard in life. The problem with that is that I had to speak with it, even more, sing with it. It’s nasally, sharp like a dull pencil. That sharpness that isn’t a thing to stab with, but it would hurt if it had force behind it.
At this point, I was starting to feel disgusting. My palms were sweating and my heart was playing prisoner as if my ribcage was actually a prison cell keeping him from running away. The prospect was really really irritating to be so afraid to sing in front of all these advanced groups and possibly fail. I hated this.
