With a Twisted & Bruised ankle, Bloody fingers & Tear soaked makeup,I ended my last High school Winter concert

It was a freezing December night when the all-purposeful hell of unfortunate events were about to tear my emotions and more importantly-clarinet in half.

Issue #1 Wardrobe malfunction

Yes what a better time could it have been for a string of bad luck to forcefully make it’s way into the seemingly memorable event of my very last winter concert in my high school career? As my best friend and I got ready at my house, brushing on many various powders and different colored eye shadows, it was then that the negative aura had already struck our evening. As I emerged from my bedroom dressed in a denim skirt and green sweater I had caused an uproar in my parent’s moods because even though I was to report to school and wear a large choir robe over top of my outfit my parents couldn’t quite grasp what I meant and mistook my outfit for an overly casual approach to my High School's winter concert.

Issue #2 Ajsa’s Ankle VS. Slippery floors

As both of my parents, my best friend, my sister and I all crammed into the medium sized Volkswagen that was my brother’s car, the tension of the argument between my parent’s and I still lingered as everyone in the back seat awkwardly brushed elbows and feet in limited space. It was when my best friend and I were released from the clown car and into the brisk December air that we began to run in heels, holding hands and giggling in the slush of the icy sidewalks. Instantly we felt a rush of excitement and hopefulness that this could be us is the near future at our top college SUNY Oswego together; shrieking out of fear of the harsh weather but fun times. When entering the building it had become very prevalent that we were late to our band warm up and tuning, sprinting down the gray hallway of our high school I felt my ankle give out and slip underneath me, suddenly my back had met the cold slippery floors.

Issue #3 Bloody Fingers

Time flew quicker than my ankle did as I limped around the band room rushing to get my instrument together, while also telling my friends about the argument between my parent’s and I. Being that band was set to perform earlier in the night’s line up we were walking up to our seats before you knew it. After many controversial conversations and planning between senior band and senior choir it was decided that the band and choir would alternate between songs, hence why I was forced to wear my senior choir robe the whole night. After the first choir song my clarinet couldn’t produce sound because of the lack of a warmed up reed between performances. As my band mates performed the first number I fumbled with my clarinet, suddenly I decided to take apart my instrument. While doing so, the middle piece to my instrument was stuck. I forced my instrument undo, prying the pieces with my hands, until my clarinet did the unthinkable - it broke in half. With a loud cracking noise and the tearing of the skin on my fingers, there was suddenly the remains of an unusable instrument and a small puddle of blood forming in my palm.

Issue #4 Take 2

Upset with myself and the embarrassment of sitting on the end-viable by the entire audience, I had ruined my last high school winter concert. Being that I was one of two of the clarinets playing the harmony, my band teacher noticed that the strong impact I gave on the band was missing and looked over to me while conducting. All I could do in my weakest moment was hold up the broken pieces of my clarinet, with a head nod and whisper he mouthed “Downstairs” to me and I knew what to do. I left the stage in search of a new instrument to take with me on my embarrassing journey, when I reported back to the stage my choir class had cheered when my clarinet was “fixed”. It only made matters worse that this clarinet was also not working and I had to fake play through the remainder of the song. All the while I prayed in my head for God to fix everything and how this was the first time my father had come to support me at my concert and I had ruined it. When it had come to the choir’s next song I had decided to stay with my clarinet making the last band songs my priority. My band teacher handed me the keys to his office and told me to pick out the newest clarinet from storage for the remainder of the night.

Issue #5 The Fight 2.0

As I limped down to my teacher’s office I was greeted by the orchestra teacher who had come down to help me. It was so nice to see that people had cared enough to see how I was doing. All the while my band teacher had left my band unattended to also meet me downstairs, with tears forming and a shaky voice I said to my teacher the tough words of “ I’m sorry I let you down.” My teacher was very forgiving and consoled me that I didn’t let anyone down that night. With the new clarinet in hand I performed the last two band numbers to my best ability and only lost half of the embarrassment that I had felt that night. Except when reaching my parent’s clown sized car I couldn’t help but finally let out the tears I was holding back. This granted me the unapologetic annoyance of my father who scolded me for crying and he forcefully admitted that he was never going to attend another one of my concerts.

Now it was the fact that my last high school winter concert had been such a big flop that I wanted to put it all behind me, but apparently the rest of my school didn’t the memo as I was bombarded with laughter and questions of “ Are you the girl who broke her FLUTE last night?!” Yes my high school media club had down me the pleasure of recording the concert and broadcasting it to the whole student body.

So yes if anyone from my high school is reading this; Yes I am the girl who ended her last winter concert with a twisted, bruised ankle, bloody fingers and tear soaked makeup.