The strange man points at Myra as he bellows, “Class, this is the new Dianna.” A thin, makeup-covered girl standing to her left whispers, “So you’re Di’s replacement, right? The new alto? I hope you’re as good as she is. You certainly look uglier than her..”
Myra isn’t sure what to say. She knows that with her pale skin, messy hair, and freckles, she’s nothing like the fake and skinny popular girls in her new school. What disappoints her the most though, is the fact that her choir director doesn’t even know her name, let alone give her a proper introduction to the class.
The girl on her right, however, is also freckled and plain with a more muscular build than everyone else around her. Summoning up all her courage, Myra asks her, “W-who’s Dianna?”
The girl doesn’t hesitate to reply. “Her full name’s Dianna Pristine Sweetwater. I know, fancy. She was the most annoying person to stand next to, and her singing was just horrible. But our director adored her, until she moved away last week. He acted like it was the end of the world or something. Anyways, I’m Ashley. The girl on the other side of you is Nicoletta and she’s a bully. Just like most of the kids in this school. Who’re you?”
Feeling a bit more comfortable, Myra says her name softly and with her trademark stutter. Just then, the director yells, “Dianna! Sing a high E-flat!” Myra’s not sure what to do, until Ashley whispers to her, “Did I mention that Dianna has perfect pitch? Luckily, so do I.” Ashley whispers the note in Myra’s ear so she can sing it in her ghost of a voice. She didn’t even sign up for choir; her mom thought it would make her more outgoing.
“Louder! I can’t hear you!” shouts that masculine voice that Myra hates so much. She tries her hardest to sing loudly, and the note comes out audibly. The whole class launches into song and she tries her hardest to sight-read the notes on the paper before her. Most of the notes come out as squeaks or whispers, though. “Dianna! Sing your part alone! Everyone wants to hear your perfect voice!”
Knowing that she doesn’t have anything near a perfect voice, Myra stretches her vocal chords and tries to get an acceptable note out. Her voice is soft and a little too low-pitched for what she’s singing. “I c-can’t do this,” she whispers to Ashley after she’s done singing and the whole class erupts with laughter.
After enduring a long lecture from her despicable director on why she’s a bad singer, Myra is elated when class is dismissed. She and Ashley both have a free period next, so they stay in the library and read books. As she enjoys her hour of peace, Myra already starts worrying about the next day’s choir class. She can tell that Ashley feels the same way.
Every day goes like this for Myra, until she graduates the eleventh grade. As much as she loathes it, her mom signs her up for choir the next year. After spending her carefree summer days camping in the mountains with Ashley’s family, she’s forgotten completely about choir.
Eventually the first day of school arrives. Myra looks at her schedule and sees “Choir” written on it in big, bold, imposing letters. When that horrible class rolls around, she and Ashley, whose parents signed her up as well, enter the room together. Although Ashley’s voice sounds as amazing as always, Myra’s is still a shadow’s ghost. She tries her hardest to live up to her director’s expectations, but always fails, still angry that he hasn’t learned her name yet. He calls her Dianna even when taking attendance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five years have passed since Myra Collins first walked into Greg Peterson’s choir classroom. Greg and his wife are spending the evening at the opera and enjoying every minute of it.
“Greg, look! The very tall alto over there has an amazing voice. Don’t you wish you had a girl like that in your choir class?” asks his wife. Greg watches the singer as she moves across the stage. Pale skin, messy hair, freckles... this definitely rings a bell. “The new Dianna... it can’t be!” he whispers to himself.
When the show’s over, Greg marches up to the opera’s manager. “What’s the name of that tall alto? The one with the lead role? I think she might have been in my choir class a while ago.”
“Myra Collins,” the manager replies. He knows that Greg Peterson teaches at the local high school. “Do you want to talk to her?” Greg replies that it would be nice, thank you very much. A few minutes later, he’s staring directly into the smoky eyes of the girl he treated so badly.
“Your name’s Myra? I never knew that. Sorry about choir class five years ago,” he tells her. “It’s o-okay,” replies Myra in her soft voice. She still stammers, Greg notices. “Did Dianna perform today?” he asks her. “S-she tried out. Didn’t make the f-first cut.” Her voice is louder than it was five years ago. “Ashley sang, t-though. She’s the g-girl I was next to. My b-best friend.”
Myra’s former director is shocked out of his mind. Who would have guessed that the girl he screamed at so much, the girl with a stammer and a small voice, the girl who’s name he hadn’t even remembered, would become an opera star? He sure wouldn’t have. Maybe his high expectations of her did something to transform her this much...
Smiling to himself, Greg Peterson walks out of the opera hall.
Myra isn’t sure what to say. She knows that with her pale skin, messy hair, and freckles, she’s nothing like the fake and skinny popular girls in her new school. What disappoints her the most though, is the fact that her choir director doesn’t even know her name, let alone give her a proper introduction to the class.
The girl on her right, however, is also freckled and plain with a more muscular build than everyone else around her. Summoning up all her courage, Myra asks her, “W-who’s Dianna?”
The girl doesn’t hesitate to reply. “Her full name’s Dianna Pristine Sweetwater. I know, fancy. She was the most annoying person to stand next to, and her singing was just horrible. But our director adored her, until she moved away last week. He acted like it was the end of the world or something. Anyways, I’m Ashley. The girl on the other side of you is Nicoletta and she’s a bully. Just like most of the kids in this school. Who’re you?”
Feeling a bit more comfortable, Myra says her name softly and with her trademark stutter. Just then, the director yells, “Dianna! Sing a high E-flat!” Myra’s not sure what to do, until Ashley whispers to her, “Did I mention that Dianna has perfect pitch? Luckily, so do I.” Ashley whispers the note in Myra’s ear so she can sing it in her ghost of a voice. She didn’t even sign up for choir; her mom thought it would make her more outgoing.
“Louder! I can’t hear you!” shouts that masculine voice that Myra hates so much. She tries her hardest to sing loudly, and the note comes out audibly. The whole class launches into song and she tries her hardest to sight-read the notes on the paper before her. Most of the notes come out as squeaks or whispers, though. “Dianna! Sing your part alone! Everyone wants to hear your perfect voice!”
Knowing that she doesn’t have anything near a perfect voice, Myra stretches her vocal chords and tries to get an acceptable note out. Her voice is soft and a little too low-pitched for what she’s singing. “I c-can’t do this,” she whispers to Ashley after she’s done singing and the whole class erupts with laughter.
After enduring a long lecture from her despicable director on why she’s a bad singer, Myra is elated when class is dismissed. She and Ashley both have a free period next, so they stay in the library and read books. As she enjoys her hour of peace, Myra already starts worrying about the next day’s choir class. She can tell that Ashley feels the same way.
Every day goes like this for Myra, until she graduates the eleventh grade. As much as she loathes it, her mom signs her up for choir the next year. After spending her carefree summer days camping in the mountains with Ashley’s family, she’s forgotten completely about choir.
Eventually the first day of school arrives. Myra looks at her schedule and sees “Choir” written on it in big, bold, imposing letters. When that horrible class rolls around, she and Ashley, whose parents signed her up as well, enter the room together. Although Ashley’s voice sounds as amazing as always, Myra’s is still a shadow’s ghost. She tries her hardest to live up to her director’s expectations, but always fails, still angry that he hasn’t learned her name yet. He calls her Dianna even when taking attendance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five years have passed since Myra Collins first walked into Greg Peterson’s choir classroom. Greg and his wife are spending the evening at the opera and enjoying every minute of it.
“Greg, look! The very tall alto over there has an amazing voice. Don’t you wish you had a girl like that in your choir class?” asks his wife. Greg watches the singer as she moves across the stage. Pale skin, messy hair, freckles... this definitely rings a bell. “The new Dianna... it can’t be!” he whispers to himself.
When the show’s over, Greg marches up to the opera’s manager. “What’s the name of that tall alto? The one with the lead role? I think she might have been in my choir class a while ago.”
“Myra Collins,” the manager replies. He knows that Greg Peterson teaches at the local high school. “Do you want to talk to her?” Greg replies that it would be nice, thank you very much. A few minutes later, he’s staring directly into the smoky eyes of the girl he treated so badly.
“Your name’s Myra? I never knew that. Sorry about choir class five years ago,” he tells her. “It’s o-okay,” replies Myra in her soft voice. She still stammers, Greg notices. “Did Dianna perform today?” he asks her. “S-she tried out. Didn’t make the f-first cut.” Her voice is louder than it was five years ago. “Ashley sang, t-though. She’s the g-girl I was next to. My b-best friend.”
Myra’s former director is shocked out of his mind. Who would have guessed that the girl he screamed at so much, the girl with a stammer and a small voice, the girl who’s name he hadn’t even remembered, would become an opera star? He sure wouldn’t have. Maybe his high expectations of her did something to transform her this much...
Smiling to himself, Greg Peterson walks out of the opera hall.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Write stuff!