Personal Narrative Yeaaaaahhh

I can always feel my heart beat faster when I'm in front of a crowd. But this time, the beating wasn't so apparent. As I got up there and looked out across the room, I could feel that this crowd cared about what I was going to do. About what I was going to say. They came to see me. This. Here and now. And that's what calmed my nerves.

Two days prior, there was something hovering around my head, stressing me out. Another thing on my never-ending to-do list. This pageant was something I didn't want to do anymore, basically because I wasn't prepared. I had to write a speech, organize my talent, gather my outfits, and figure out my family history. But now I was here and the moment had come. And I was facing the stormcloud that had made me so nervous.

I spoke out loud, in my own voice with my own words. I told the people listening all about my passions. My passion for words, for art, and the past, which was why I was here. And once I had begun, it was easy. It was easy to talk about something I knew and cared so much about. I was still nervous, but I wasn't scared. I knew exactly what to say, releasing the butterflies in my stomach with each word I spoke.


This is the very beginning of my story.
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