Short Story RD

Torey Rothert

Mrs. Belden

Honors English I

6 October 2014

Band Camp

I wake up at six in the morning. The cabin is cold and dark. I put on my flip-flops and make my way to the camp bathhouse. My feet are cold form the wet morning grass. I know that today is going to be a long day.

Once I am ready, I make my way to the practice field. A large group of seniors surround the tent in which we put water bottles. I feel as if I am missing something, but yet I am confident I had not. The seniors start shouting a countdown from ten. All band members are rushing to the field ready to start the day.

We spend an hour doing warm-ups. We stretch out our bodies, wake ourselves up, and go over the day’s goals. This is followed by a nice breakfast with waffles and grapes. My stomach twists from all of this activity so early in the morning, but I shake it off and return to the sectional tent.

Followed by one hour of musical practice, the band returns to the practice field for outdoor pre-game practice. This is the time of day when the sun is piercing my eyes and the bugs are yelping into my ears. We practice the insert that the band supposedly performs before home football games.

It has only been 15 minutes, yet I feel as if it has been an eternity. I look around and wonder my purpose here. I am surrounded freshly mowed by wet grass shimmering against the sun, dozens of cabins, trees, and band members.The sun observes me all day as if it was concerned. My skin is tan and wet from the outdoor exercise and my feet feel as if I am hitting them onto a brick wall. I can see sweat dripping through my disney shirt and landing on the hard ground below. Bugs surround my body, trying to land on my fatigued arms, and my clarinet is as dirty as a stick in the dirt. I feel as if all my actions are being spectated by the “Camp Beautiful” sign.

Mr. Brassroad has us learning pre-game during our first practice. I am being encouraged by the college staff to lift up my feet, point my toes, step in time, use proper step size, correct my posture, and turn sharply on command. I have so many things to focus on right now, yet all my brain can think about is a drink. I can only imagine the glory of gulping down on some plorange (Purple mixed with blue and orange) gatorade or enjoying the company of my gallon large water bottle.

I am feeling more tired than I ever remember feeling in my whole life. I try to block out my feelings in order to finish the practice. I want to give everything I can and pain is not going to stop me! I feel as a sophomore I have no excuses to do none other than my best. I feel obligated to act as a role model for the freshmen and for Brassroad.  My conscience wants me to preserve and continue to march with all my might, however my body can only think of one drink of water.

I am trying my hardest for the accomplishment of water. I am racing towards the finish line!

We stop practicing pre-game and start working on our half-time show. I am relieved that I won't need to high step anymore. My coordinate cards are no where to be found! Now, I have no way of discovering my spot on the field. They're supposed to tell me which yard line I am near, or witch endzone I am movie towards. I feel my heart drop onto my old shoes. How am I going to make it to this practice?

I talk to an upperclassman to help me find my way on the field. I make it to my spot with an unpleasant sensation. My skin starts burning and my face is peeling. I did not bring sunscreen.  A day in the sun and I am as red as a tomato. Ouch!

My vision becomes blurry and my eyes become cold. Sweat is covering my body as I face my fellow peers. Over worked and exhausted, I feel myself about to faint. Water, water is all my mouth is craving. Water will help me feel better, but I can’t give in. I don’t want to be behind and the next water break is in 10 minutes. Water is the light at the end of the tunnel.

It is as humid as a sauna right now. I am pushing myself beyond my limit in order to accomplish this practice. I can imagine the nice and cold water sitting in my mouth waiting for me to swallow. I feel I am only working for one cause this practice; water.

The only reason I am pushing myself is for a drink of water. I hold in my pain for five more minutes just to earn the prize of a drink. I motivate myself through the thought of my my relaxation.

Five, six,seven, and eight. We march eight counts forward, four counts left, and sixteen counts backward. All I hear in the sound of college staff and directors telling me to start over and to take it back. For 25 minutes straight I have had my back straight, my chest out, my elbows out, my shoulders forced downward, and my chin up.

I feel like I am pushing my body to its limit. My calves feel as hard as a rock and my stomach feels as empty as a hallowed pumpkin. My feet are collecting blister form the still wet grass and my head is a boulder I am carrying on my shoulders.

Mr. Bassroad finally calls practice off and puts us into what we call block band. This is a formation that organizes our band by section in order to keep from chaos and help attendance. We stand at attention with our feet closed, instruments up, and posture still. He talks about our accomplishments from this practice. His pride in our hard work and dedication.

For a moment, I forget about the water. I don’t care about winning the water break after this practice. It feels nice to know what all of my hard work is appreciated. I like to hear that my efforts help the marching band improve.

We are released from practice and I walk towards my water bottle. My self esteem is high and my craving for water is lowered. I search the whole water tent for my water, yet it is nowhere to be found. I ask my friend to help me, but we do not succeed. My heart drops as I remember the worst mistake of my life. I had left my water bottle at home! A whole week and I’m supposed to spend it without my water!

I go to the water fountain in order to quench my thirst. I feel like I wasted a whole practice on nothing! I wonder what the point was of even practicing well this morning if I don’t even get my water. Me not getting water is like the winner of the olympics not getting a medal.

Slowly I put my bad thoughts aside. I decide that I am not going to let this bring me down. I did well today. I tried my best to excel and that is just what I did! I regain the feeling of accomplishment and happiness. I don’t care that I don’t have my water bottle! I can just use the water fountain! I am just happy that I performed my best today! And that is something I cannot redo if done wrong!