End of Days
Melody and harmony. The cascading chords wafted through the air, gently borne on the effortless strength of well-trained voices. Notes floated and settled on the hands and faces of our parents and loved ones, covering them like a blanket of breeze-blown scented petals. The lingering notes swirled and embraced the listeners, as they found purchase in their hearts.
The sound of clapping echoed through the auditorium as the song ended. My eyes swept across the crowd, anticipating what was to happen next. Climbing down the steps, I made my way to the front of the assembled choir. Spotting Jess, I noticed her picking her way through her section, choosing a path to where I stood.
When she reached me, we each took a mic in our hands and waited for the cues from our conductor. I looked at her, trying to catch her eye, but she hardly paid any attention to me. She kept rubbing her fingers together, trying to dissolve the nervousness that showed in her posture. Finally peeking up at me, I tried to reassure her with a smile, but she didn’t seem to notice. Seeing me watching her, she looked away, embarrassed and rubbed her hands together.
A quizzical expression crossed my face, as a question flashed through my mind. What was she thinking? But before I could explore that thought further, the piano started playing. Almost losing my cue during that brief lapse in concentration, I opened my mouth just in time.
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad.
But forever’s gone away
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.
The words and feelings of the song consumed me, unlocking something within. As my voice found its own rhythm, it carried my unfurling emotions over the heads of everyone who was watching. All the pain and sorrow that had exhausted me all year, was slowly bleeding away. All that was left was an ardent rendition of a well-known, and beloved song.
Is going to lead
All I know is where we’ve been
And what we’ve been through.
I hope it’s worth all the wait
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.
Her beautiful soprano drifted out into the darkened sky, crying out to an understanding heart because the sorrow was visible to the naked ear. At her age, she was already a national vocal finalist. Her strength and range surpassed most of our peers, and even college students, with more experience than she had. Her voice could take you by the hand, guide you to that place where melancholy lay, there in the shadows, listening to the tears roll down the spiraled sadness of a song.
To be my sunshine after the rain
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.
To be my sunshine after the rain
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.
As the song ended, I gazed out across the audience and saw people standing, smiling, and applauding. The sound of clapping rose to an almost unbearable crescendo, with an underlying murmur of voices that could be heard. Their warmth and appreciation rolled over me, leaving me breathless and joyful, but tinged with a hint of loneliness. This cathartic release of pent up feelings all but ate away at what was left of my emotional core. I was drained.
Standing there with the crowd’s applause ringing in my ears, I watched as parents and children moved to leave, and then reality hit me. My life as a middle-school student was now over.
Sure, there were a week left of school, but after the graduation ceremony, we would all go our separate ways. The younger students would remain in the familiar comforts of these halls, however, for us 8th graders, we’d be heading into high school. Some of us would meet again, while others would end up going to a different school across town. From then on, there would be even more division as the years crept along. New schools, new environments, and what was to be new lives.
Overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions threatening to engulf me, I walked to the edge of the stage and sat down, staring out at the polychromatic horizon. People hurried by, their joyful chatter could be heard as they sought out friends and loved ones. I wanted to wait for the tumult to die down before venturing off the stage.
“Hey!” I heard her voice call me.
Looking over, I saw Jess standing off to one side of the stage, hands clasped in front of her, watching me intently.
Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.
