Phoebe T

12, Carseldine

Nervous. Scared. Palms clammy. That’s how I can describe standing in the wings of my first ballet concert. As my class ran into our positions, I stared out into the pitch black of the audience, on the verge of tears. The melody I had heard so many times filled my head. As the dance blurred past me I could hear my teachers’ corrections. Arms. Point. Plie. Turn-out. Finally, fake smile. As we ran into our final positions, I realised my smile was real.

And that I was truly happy.

And I realised that that moment would stay with me forever.


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