My story
Part 1

 

I felt the stress from weighing me down as I carefully packed up my clarinet. The screams that came out of Mr. Greene's mouth replayed in my head. Even though it was a bit harsh, he has a right to tell us we stink and should play 5 million times better, sort of. I stood up and made my way out of the building, but holding my folder nervously up to my face wasn't enough  to get past Mr. Greene without being noticed. He signaled me back over to the front door, making sure I knew I should be preparing some sort of excuse as to why i sucked. At first he just scolded me and gave a me long speech about how not to squeak and taking more mouthpiece. Afterward, though, he was complimenting me on my strong sound. I couldnt care less. I was standing there, giving him the lamest excuses, only because i was focusing on the late run buses arriving, hoping one of them was #10. As I blabbed to Mr. Greene, staring at the vacant space where my bus was supposed to be, i slowly faded to a light whisper, then nothing at all. My jaw opened wide and as my stomach droped to my feet.