Short Story

When One Door Closes, Another Door Opens

             

            The light is blinding. It is so bright, that minuscule pieces of dust could be seen ever so slightly floating aimlessly in the air. As I approach the stage, I cannot not help but notice the clicking of my boots against the uneven floorboard, and with every shallow breath, I am drawing closer to the microphone. The silhouettes of the audience are vague, quite obscure due to the fact that I forgot to put on my glasses. I look to my left, and then to my right, and I see my friends are with me, and we are ready to perform. I take in a rushed deep breath, and then let it all out. Afterward, our beautiful songs ensue. At first my voice is shaky, but soon we are harmonizing and smiling at each other, unable to fathom that we are on stage; we are singing our hearts out. At the end of our performance, the audience cheers voraciously, as if they want more. I think to myself, "Maybe we could actually win this thing."

            

           Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like days; as we are waiting for the results. As I look up, knees shaking and my body ironically cold to the touch, the emcees begin to announce the winners. As they are speaking, in my head their mouths are moving yet no sound is coming out. I watch as the third, second, and first place winners receive their prizes, and in a fraction of a second, the sound of cheers returns, but it is not for us. It hits me like a heavy brick wall that we did not win. I applaud and smile, although a piece of me still wishes the contrary.

            

          At the end of the talent show, a group of students suddenly approach me and commend me for my vocals. I am taken by surprise but very thankful for their compliments. They advise me to audition for the schools vocal group, and I humbly reply to them that I will think about it. We exchange more small talk, weary smiles, and head home. I tell myself in the car, "I won't even get in. What is the use in trying?"

            

           A couple of days have passed, and I find myself holding the sheet music for the audition. I am in awe at how thick the papers are, but nevertheless I work diligently at the music. After hours of hard work every day, I am finally ready.

            

        The day of the audition is a busy one. I walk into the audition space, and I am greeted by many hopefuls in the room. I take a seat, and watch as the others nervously share their vocal talent. The air in the room is stagnant, and the facial expressions of the teachers are indecipherable. As I notice this, my name is called out and it is my turn to sing.

            

            The moment I open my mouth, something happens. I overlook the fact that I am in an audition, I sing the best I can, and even though I am nervous; I use that energy to fuel my voice, to allow my character to shine through. My whole body is immersed in song, I am involuntarily snapping to the beat, and my lips are extended in a smile.

           

            I remember it was the day of my science exams when I had found out I had gotten in the group, and I rushed to the door where all the names were posted on a shiny piece of parchment, my name typed in black ink; permanent, visible, and real. It is a day I will never forget.

            

           Throughout all of this, I have learned that when you want something, you will not always get it the first time. Sometimes, you may never get it at all. However, when you work hard at something, and let go of underestimating your talent and potential, many positive things can shine through. Indeed, when one door closes, another door definitely opens.