Marching Band Triumph: A Bald Teenager's Tale

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When school hours were over on Tuesday, my mom drove me over to band practice with the rest of the marching band. Despite the heat, I wore a beanie so no one would see my scalp. Everyone said “Welcome back,” and “We missed you,” and things of that nature, even the seniors. Russell helped snap on the snare that attached to the wheelchair. “Glad to have you back,” he smile as he snapped it into place. “Glad to be back,” I answered. Time passed quickly now that I was in my element. I felt like everyone else. Just another normal, bald teenager. I kept my robot face the entire time as Chris wheeled me around. I kept complete control over my hands and where they were. “Alright, everyone, bring it in,” Mr. Hewitt announced at the end of practice. “Drum solo tryouts will be right here right …show more content…

Even the old people in the ICU liked it. Before I knew it, it was my turn. I looked straight forward at Mr. Hewitt, but kept my mind focused on my hand movement. I had it memorized from how many times I played it. I was so nervous, I almost dropped my stick from my sweaty hands, but I kept a firm grip on it. First measure, second, crescendo. I knew the beats well because I’ve played them a million times before. The entire band got into it; they clapped along, and when I had finished, everyone cheered. “I guess we have our winner. Good job, Piper!” Mr. Hewitt announced, and I felt on top of the world, even though every joint in my body felt like jello. The rest of the two weeks at rehearsal we went over the show about five times per practice. The week of the competition, I decided to go to school. I knew I was going to hear whispers about me being bald, so it didn’t phase me when I overheard a group of snotty popular girls talking about me. I also knew my teachers were going to take it easy on me, but I was still a little unhappy when my history teacher gave me two extra days to complete an

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