• Breathe, just breathe, Scarlet thought. Faces turned to her as she walked up to the microphone. Events of the week before her flashed in her mind in pictures each thing remembered by a different face in the crowd. It was mainly, the eighth grade chorus class she was in that caught her eye; Ben, Cecilia, Jordan and the others. But what made her recount the more important factors, the reason why she was here, was the face of Mrs. Seyer. Before this very moment, Scarlet was what you would call a pariah, a loner. If not for the teachers, watching the students attentively, she was sure the auditorium would be filled with snickers like they had during class. She saw it then in only their faces, mere shadows to the actual thing but still causing an aching pang of loneliness. Scarlet fingered a sandy colored braid, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. The first time she had tried to sing in front of the class was fresh in her mind like it happened a few minutes ago when it really happened on Monday, five days back.
    The morning had dawned like any other morning in springtime, full of sunlight though a bit held back on the warmth. The sun rays beckoned her, as usual, to get up. And she did. Scarlet had gotten ready like it was any other Monday not knowing what would lie in her path, as the day waned. In fact, the first thing that broke off from the regular schedule of things was when in chorus class, a solo song tryout was offered. Most of the girls had already tried out and failed in the process of doing it. The song was pretty easy but the way of singing without hurting your voice? That was much harder. Now grant it, Scarlet had a beautiful voice but being a loner in middle school often meant bravery wavered and soon went out especially in the condition of doing something alone and in front of everyone. So Scarlet didn’t expect herself to try out.
    “Would anybody else like to try the solo from Friday?” Their teacher asked after the dull ringing of the school bell sounded through the room. Amazingly, one hand raised. As all eyes turned toward her, Scarlet realized that hand was her own.
    “Scarlet?” She gulped and stood up, her legs like jelly and her head spinning. A low ripple of laughter flooded the room and was quieted only by a razor sharp glare from the chorus teacher. Scarlet opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her stomach began to churn and she felt faint. Slowly, she looked at the teacher, her eyes filled with tears and shook her head.
    “Maybe after school, then?” Her teacher asked kindly. Scarlet nodded and quickly sat back down, the feeling slowly coming back to her legs.
    “Any…one…else….” Her music teachers voice slowly faded away and again she faced the auditorium of people, all surveying her with hawk like eyes. In some, she saw disapproval, others anxiety for her to get on with it and a few, acceptance, as if she worked hard enough so that maybe she wasn’t all that bad. Scarlet remembered the after school tryout, alone with the teacher. She was much more comfortable then and was able to sing well enough. A different memory was pulled out of her head as she recounted the past week. It was on Wednesday, when her teacher announced the solo performer.
    “Our soloist will be…” She began and 27 pairs of eyes focused on her, including Scarlet. Many of the girls were smirking like they had already gotten it and others were waiting on the edge of their seat, praying that their name would be called. Scarlet had low hopes. There had been too many girls that had tried out. Still, she couldn’t help but look at her teacher squarely in the face.
    “..Scarlet Cumberman.” Surprise was the first thing that dawned on Scarlets face, then curiosity and then the oddest of them all, unacceptance. She didn’t get the part. The class was just playing a trick on her. The teacher was in on it. Scarlet was sure of that. Her face became blank, unaware of the glares that half of the girls were giving her while the other half was still staring shocked at the music teacher.
    “Scarlet?” The music teacher was looking at her worried. “Scarlet, didn’t you here? You got the part.” Scarlet looked up then and realized they hadn’t been playing a joke on her. She had actually gotten the part. At that second, the bell rang. Scarlet rushed out the door. During math, most of the girls in her class cast dark looks at her throughout the whole period. On her way to lunch, a girl knocked her over than grumbled in a rude voice something of an apology. Why that pompous, narcissistic little…Scarlet stopped herself from thinking the rest. Thursday came and went and was followed by Friday dragging with it taunts, bruises and all eyes on her. The 8 periods of the day were long, feeling almost like a whole day instead of 50 minutes. The first two periods came and went without much trouble. But then science loomed over her, the class where most of the chorus class dwelled, waiting to strike the hopeless Scarlet. And indeed they did. A girl sent her a note less than fifteen minutes after the class began.
    You don’t deserve the solo. You’re just a suck-up.
    Reading it brought tears to her eyes. How could they be so mean?! Two periods later came the moment she had been dreading most; Lunch! After the first few remarks were slapped on her, she decided she had had enough. Scarlet went over to Mrs. Seyer, her English teacher.
    “May I please talk to you?” She asked. She didn’t go to the guidance counselor because then everyone would know about it. Plus, she trusted Mrs. Seyer a lot more than any of her other teachers. The English teacher must have noticed Scarlet was about to cry and quickly went over to another teacher. They talked for a few moments then she headed back over.
    “Sure, come on.” This was also why she asked Mrs.Seyer. The young teacher was understanding and kind. Ever since the beginning of eighth grade, Scarlet had thought she was the best teacher. One time, back in September, Scarlet had been the only one to show up for a help session. Mrs.Seyer had given her goods advice on remembering different latin prefixes and their meanings. Then they had spent the rest of the time talking about other things that weren’t English related.
    When they got to her class, Scarlet burst into tears. She felt Mrs. Seyer reassuringly pat her back. When Scarlet was finally done crying, the teacher handed her a tissue.
    “I’m so sorry,” Scarlet sniffed, “You must think I’m a baby.”
    “I would never think that. Sometimes crying is the best thing to do. It releases our inner emotions and makes us feel much better afterwards.” Mrs. Seyer paused, and tilted her head a little, staring sympathetically at Scarlet.“Now, what has you like this. Your usually so happy.”
    “Well,” Scarlet began the story. She told the English teacher everything. At the end, Mrs. Seyer rested her chin in her hand, thinking.
    “May I see that note?” she asked. Scarlet nodded and handed her the note. Mrs. Seyer studied the note for a second then smiled slightly.
    "You know,” She began, “let me show you a little magic trick.” She took out a pen and set the note down between them.
    “If I cross one word out and put in another…And viola!”
    Scarlet looked down at the note.
    You don't deserve the solo. You’re just not a suck up.
    Scarlet smiled. It wasn’t much but somehow it hit the spot.
    “Obviously, your chorus teacher thought you were the best or she wouldn’t have picked you. I agree with her,” Mrs. Seyer murmured.
    Scarlet smiled as again she found herself back on the stage with a microphone thrust in her face.
    I deserve the solo, she thought, I’m not just a suck-up. Her head pounded and sweat came to her in waves but she blocked that all out. That stuff didn’t matter anymore. She came up to do something and to prove a point. Now she had to do it. Scarlet opened her mouth, closed it again and swallowed. This is it, now or never. Then, with a summoning of courage, she began.
    “When you feel so lost
    Like you can’t go on
    And you wish you hadn’t
    left it like this for so long…”
    People began to look up and stare at her, amazed. Her eyes again went to Mrs. Seyer and saw that she was smiling. Her voice reverberated through the auditorium like the long beautiful echo of the ocean in a shell. A few verses later, she was close to the end.
    “I will just hold on
    though I slip and fall
    I can hear my vivid heartbeat
    in you all.”
    The crowd began to stand. There silent appreciation swelled in Scarlet’s heart like the words of the song swelled from her throat, bursting out in lyric form. The last stanza immediately followed.
    “So I’m standin’ here
    waitin’ to be free
    Yeah, I’m standin’ here
    wantin’ for you to see
    Oh, I’m standin’ here
    longin’ just to be…
    me.” The song ended and there was a huge tide of applause. Scarlet felt like she could cry, not sad, empty tears but the tears of joy and of just pure happiness. She had done it. She had sung that song with the strength and force she needed for people to get the message. Most importantly, though, she had finally done something to help herself. Scarlet had shown everyone else who she was and for once in her life, she was not ashamed about it. The praise rung in Scarlet’s ears as the crowd slowly parted to let her go to Mrs. Seyer.
    “Thank you,” she yelled over the din, “Thank you for helping me.”
    “No, don’t thank me.” Mrs. Seyer smiled. “You’re the one who really did it. Oh, and great job. You nailed it. That song, it fits you.”

    ~Waiting to be Free~

    When you feel so lost
    Like you can’t go on
    And you wish you hadn’t
    left it like this for so long

    You just keep holdin' on
    All the thoughts in your head
    Till the music beats within you
    Like a steady tread

    Yeah, you gotta stand
    and you gotta fight
    for the right to be free
    in this world

    You just reach out a hand
    try to grab the darkness
    till you find the light
    within yourself

    Come on, help me through
    Cause I'm all alone
    Yeah, I need someone to guard me
    through this great unknown

    And I will just hold on
    Though I slip and fall
    I can hear my vivid heartbeat
    in you all

    So, I'm standin’ here
    waitin’ to be free
    Yeah, I'm standin’ here
    wantin’ you to see
    Oh, I'm standin’ here
    longin’ just to be....
    me