We imagined cheers, thunderous applause. Nobody had been a match for our crushing strengths in our earlier matches. We were the cream of the elite, the best of all. I particularly enjoyed looking at my opponent’s faces, knowing that their hearts had been crushed into a sodden mash of beetroot. Our parents have instilled in us this quote: Second was the first to lose. We were desperate for excellence, not perfection. You see, Ariel ,Rachel and I were trumpet players, exceeding our teachers expectations.
But alas, as we are humans, we experience defeat. The three of us were knocked down our thrones and hit the ground with a sickening thud that fateful day. We were twisted with grief and sorrow.
The Ictus International Music Competition was approaching, symbolizing the best of all. Only the worthy were allowed to compete. Without batting an eyelid, my teacher registered us for the competition. Hah! This will be a piece of cake. I thought, puffing up my chest with pride. I was very wrong.
The fateful day finally arrived. Buses came and went. An important driver pulled up at 8 o’ clock to fetch us from our class. Before long, we stepped in the hall, so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. Competitors piled in, all looking experienced and up for a match. “ Let the matches begin!” A booming voice filled the hall. It was as cold as an iceberg floating in the frozen sea on a wintery night. “First off will be the team from Rulang, Ariel, Xinran and Rachel versus the team from Nanhua, Hua Ming, Ming Zhe, and Fiona! Our team was encouraged by thunderous applause rivaled only by the stamping of feet from the other. Our team started playing our instruments and got cheering from the crowd.
But as the others started playing, the audience quieted. A strange, sad wailing came from the violin that the trio were playing. A strange and unearthly sound rose up from the instrument. It rose up high and full of beauty and then fell again to a mournful note. It ended with a bow. The entire hall was deathly silent. Wave after wave, the audience stood up and the sound they made made my clapping earlier sound like a baby talking. I could have sworn that even the gods were clapping. Of course, there is no doubt about the winning team. They crushed us and even claimed the trophy as 1st.
All the hard work that we put in the competition, all flushed down the drain. We were sitting in the girls bathroom crying. Tears flowed through my eyes. How could we lose? Our melody was unbeatable, but theirs, like a river flowing along a creek……flowing endlessly, like a river that was calm. Sorrow filled me, worse than what I felt when our opponents played.But of what price? They had put sweat, blood and tears in that melody. But what have we done? Nothing but to boast, claim and bask in glory. Even we knew that we were wrong. Our arrogance blinded us, leaving us thinking right was wrong and up was down. But it was no use, sitting here crying. We had to move, try our best and fight.
Face soaked with tears, I stood up. The other two were surprised by my action. “It's not the end. Time for Round 2.”
