Memorable Moment

Eight hundred eyes fill a middle school auditorium. They stare blankly at the empty stage before them. These judging, insensitive eyes, belonging to fellow classmates, peers and voluptuous crushes, wait impatiently, expecting to get their five dollars worth of entertainment. Meanwhile, I stand behind the curtain, more nervous than a virgin at a brothel. I'm about to showcase my first original work. The stage is set, and it seems curiously inviting under the dim, blue lights only bright enough to make everything glow. I walk into the still darkness of the stage and wait for my light queue. With nearly four hundred people in the auditorium, I have never heard a room so quiet. I could hear a fly sneeze.

Then, the lights go on. At this moment, I fell like a novice skydiver, hunched at the mouth of a plane, recapping every preceding life event, just in case he never sees another day. My fourteen year old mind was clouded with fright as I stand shaking on the stage in front of a room full of my peers. However, instead of worrying about a queue or a line, I feared for my identity. I have Tourette's Syndrome and I was deathly afraid of my first appearance in front of a live audience.

I was five when my head crossed paths with a concrete floor. The nasty spill granted me a trip to the emergency room and from that day on, I was never the same. Doctors diagnosed me with Tourette's Syndrome. The disorder caused me to twitch, jump, shake, snort, clap, or repeat phrases without my control. I never appreciated the ability to sit still until I was incapable of doing so. The disease took complete control of my life physically and socially. In class, fellow students would stare with judging eyes as I jerked my head back violently. On the playground, kids cured ennui by making fun of me. After all, teasing is more fun than tag. For them, I was walking entertainment. For me, Tourrettes was a plague.

In middle school, I discovered a passion for acting. Through acting, I could...