It was on the 21st of February that the school held an inter-class drama competition for the Form 5's. The morning itself was spent hanging around class, trying to get everyone's make-up, hair and outfits primed to perfection before the show. The room buzzed with anxiety and tension as we stepped into the hall. We drew lots to determine the order of our performances and to my relief, we got the last number. It was a miracle really, as we sat down to watch the other plays. They were good, some of them were definitely winner-worthy and that just fueled everyone's anxiety.
The weeks and weeks we'd spent practicing, including on weekends and almost every English period; it all balled down to this. Could we possibly win? Soon, it was our turn and the director gave everyone a pep talk; trying perhaps to convince us that we could win this. As the playwright/director, it was a stressful job, but watching their performance from backstage was enough for me. I desperately wanted to win, not just for myself, but I wanted everyone else to know that their hard work had paid off as well. There was no denying the palpable tension as we finished our performance. There was a round of applause as we sat around talking and taking photos before the judges announced the results.
Everyone did wonderfully, every class did their best but to my surprise (okay, maybe not really), we won first place. Our hard work had paid off.
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