based on a true personal story
English and gammer should be correct PLEASE tell me if somethin isn't correct or if you think there are paragraphs I can edit out
[quote]As humans, we sometimes visualize what will occur in certain situations before the situation even becomes reality. It is just the nature of the human race to be curious about the future, and to plan for it as best and perfect as possible. My problem occurs when I realize that things rarely go the way I want them to go, and the plan just becomes wishful thinking. Doubt becomes my worst enemy and begins a treacherous cycle of negativity which ultimately brings me from an okay life down to a state of dejection and hopelessness well before I even give myself a chance. Just like any other situation, this one had no exceptions to my pessimistic thinking.
It was late at night, and I had finally made my way into bed in my dorm room. The entire band had been staying in the same dorm that week on a campus away from our own homes. The black soundless dorm room had made it one of the best places for me to collect my thoughts in the past week much like my own room did for me at home, so I lied down in my bed to think of what was to come of the last day of our pre-season band camp. Last year’s band camp filled my head instead, and I started to get warm with embarrassment at some of the thing things I had done in my freshmen year of high school. Thoughts from the first time I tried to take a step forward in a marching style to making mistakes and being called out over the speakers swamped my thinking, but the biggest thing I could remember was the mistake I made in our drill down competition.
Drill down was the name of our band competition that determined who was the best marcher inside the band aside from the section leaders. The award was the most anticipated and most respected award that was given all year long in the band program. The winner of this was usually an upper classmen that had been in the band program for several years and had plenty experience.
Seeing the mistake again from last year overwhelmed me so much that I could feel the touch of the warm hand that touched my shoulder, and crushed all my feelings of accomplishment. I could also hear the voice of the staff member as he said, “You need work on your backwards march, maybe next year.” This was absolutely devastating to me, but I recovered eventually keeping in mind that next year was going to be here soon enough.
This is my year, I thought, and I began to feel like I was on the field. I could smell the grass clippings from the morning grass cut and the freshly sprayed paint that marked the yard lines. I could vividly see us all lined up in a four step interval block formation ready to begin the competition with the staff members on the outside ready to go around and tap the students on the shoulder to end their competition. As we were called to attention, I saw a staff member walk in my direction. It was inevitable, I knew I was gone. “Better luck next year,” I heard him say and walk away as he taped my shoulder. Dead with anxiety, I fell into a hard disgusted sleep.
Early the next morning we were woken up by the traditional drum cadence throughout the dorm halls. Everyone quickly got ready because we all knew that today was the day of the famous drill down. As we quietly warmed up our muscles to prepare ourselves for the day, I visualized the drill down again, but this time it ended a little better. I saw myself making it to the third round of cuts, but I was still displeased with this and immediately forced it out my head. Eventually our section leader, Elise, broke the morning silence with a loud sarcastic “GOODMORNING” followed by a grumble in reply from the tired and worn out section.
Elise was a senior mellophone player and an excellent marcher. She was also a very pretty girl around the age of seventeen at the time. I looked up to her for a lot of things from life situations to band things such as learning how to play and march. Her playing ability on the mellophone was just astounding. The way she played her instrument so soft and soothingly would make people stop and turn just to watch and listen much like people do when they see an eagle flying above or a deer that pokes it’s head out in broad daylight. Her impeccable marching style was also one to note considering that she was last year’s winner of the drill down competition. She was an amazing section leader, as well an amazing friend during my times of need that particular year.
The director called us up together to explain what we were doing for that morning’s rehearsal and the day’s schedule. We lined up in a block formation with each person exactly four steps away from each other just as the sun was just coming over the surrounding buildings making the glare almost unbearable. During our morning rehearsal, staff members walked throughout the band to take note of certain marching skills each band member possessed. They were looking for things that they could remember to look for in the later drill down block to tap people out.
After an hour of marching our basic fundamentals, our Vice-Principle of the school, whom was also a staff member, came up to me and said that he had placed his staff bets on me for the afternoon drill down. Immediately I looked at him and asked,
“Why?”
He gave me a confused look and said, “Because you are one of the best marchers out here, and I think you can win this today. I never lose this bet, you know that.”
Then he walked off with a smile on his face back to the sidelines to continue watching other people around the band. The morning block came to an end and we marched to the cafeteria for our final band camp breakfast.
I sat down in the old dark dreary cafeteria with a plate of eggs and began to eat while waiting for my friends to join me at the table.
“Hey fellow good marcher,” I heard coming from the distance.
I turned around to see who was talking to me, and I saw Elise walking towards me. She sat down right next to me and said, “You are lookin pretty good out there on that field you know that?”
“Really?” I said questionably awaiting more response from her.
“Yeah, I think you have a good shot at winning the drill down today.”
Confused by the sudden praise from a well respected member as well as a well respected staff member, I replied, “Thanks, I hope I do have a shot.”
As she walked away I wondered if I really did have a shot at winning the competition. I knew Mr. Moreaux was usually correct when he picked someone to win the drill down competition, and Elise knew what she was talking about because she had seen me march all week long. I immediately began to see that field once more in my head with it’s strong smells and rich atmosphere. This time I could see myself and only two other people left standing on the field awaiting commands. The noise from the screaming band members on the side line was ear piercing, and began to distract me from the competition itself. I could hear my section chanting my name over and over again. The Drill instructor called out the command, “mark-time four for nothing, forward march eight, rock step back eight, rock-step forward until you get a halt.” He gave his tempo with the striking of the wooden block. The tempo was around one hundred and fifty beats per minute I figured. “Mark time Mark” he screamed and I began to follow the commands.
“Hey, what you doing? You okay?”
“Oh! Yeah, I’m ok, Jade”, I said as I shook my head trying to come out of my day dreaming.
“I thought you were going to fall out your chair for a minute there!” , Jade said with bit of a laugh in her voice.
“I’m okay, I was just thinking about some stuff.” I said hoping she would forget about it quickly.
Breakfast had come and gone in no time at all. Now it was time for the show down. The band director, Mr. Adams, gathered us up inside the band hall just a few feet from doors that led to the outside field. He told us the rules, and introduced who the drill instructor would be for the competition, Mr. Moreaux. Mr. Adams led us outside to the field and it was just as I had anticipated. I could smell the grass just freshly cut and the fumes from the paint that was just put down this morning. The band members quickly fell inline in a four step interval block in the attention position. The competition had begun.
Mr. Moreaux announced the bets placed by the staff on who would win the competition. He began with the least amount of votes to the highest amount of votes. The running placed me in first place with ten overall staff votes. In second place was Mark, who had five staff votes. Mr. Moreaux called us down into a relax position and called us back up to attention. Immediately about thirty people were tapped out for bad posture or breaking attention with movement of some sort. He announced over the speaker the first drill, “Mark time eight and halt.” It was a simple drill just to see who could hold up their nerves.
After about ten rounds of drill there I was standing among ten other band members. The sweat was pouring down my face and down my back as the hot sun beat down on us all. The other members were on the sidelines yelling and shouting for their friends giving them encouragement. The drill had increased in intensity and was up to a grueling speed. Mr. Moreaux said the next drill in a loud intensifying voice, “Box eights.” The Box was one of the hardest fundamentals we did especially at a fast tempo. The sidelines roared louder with encouragements for the people still left as the wooden block started to over shadow the cheering.
“MARK TIME MARK!” He yelled signaling the begging of the drill. “Forward eight!” I said to myself as my feet did the work. “Right slide eight!” I thought as I got to the pivot point. “Back eight, half way” I again continued to say to myself as the cheers became more evident in my head. “To the left” I whispered in tempo with a soft almost unspoken voice. “Forward eight again” I thought as I finished the drill.
The crowd suddenly became completely silent as now only a few select staff members walked through to tap people out at the end of the drill. I could see them coming my way. I didn’t move a muscle. They taped out the people on both sides of me, but not me. “Condense the block” They exclaimed. We closed the holes and formed one straight line with only two of us left, Mark and myself.
“Same drill, but backwards” Mr. Moreaux said. I suddenly became very nervous and scared. The crowed began to chant my name so loudly that I couldn’t even hear the chats for Mark. The tempo rang out over the field and the cheers suddenly stopped. It was silent. “Mark Time Mark” as called out, but this time it was much less of a boom in my ears. I could feel my heart beating every beat like a bass drum keeping tempo. As fast as the drill began the drill ended. I couldn’t’ believe that I had just finished the finial round of the drill down. Mr. Moreaux had the pick this time being the drill down instructor. He stood in the middle of us both and quietly told us what a good job we both had done. The sidelines were silent as if they were all called to the attention position, but my heart sounded as if it would wake the dead. Mr. Moreaux started giving his closing remarks before he proclaimed the winner. He left both of us in the attention position and neither of us dared to move an inch. After his remarks were over, he began to declare the winner.
“After much thought, observations, and intensive drill, I have made a decision on the winner of this year’s drill down competition.”
He walked back over and stood between us with Mark on his left and me on his right. He picked up his right hand from his side and reached over to tap one of us on the shoulder. I felt his warm hand touch my shoulder as he said, “I thought you would win. You were looking the best, but that last run just didn’t do it. I’m sorry.” The sidelines cheered and everyone stood up to go back to their dorms to pick up and go home. I had been once again crushed.
Since this day, I have learned a lot about life in general and about mind control. I learned to stay in control of my own thoughts, as well as my actions. The next year I succeeded and won the competition without any trouble at all. After that day of crushed feelings and complete depression, I realized that doubt was no longer an issue in my thoughts if I kept the doubt out. I became in control of my own mind, and I have remained to be in control of my mind. The run of negativity and dejection can not be just glanced over in my mind rather fought out for justice of my own body and actions.[/quote]
