As I make my way down the first set of stairs my nerves grow. I can feel
my heart flutter like the wings of a butterfly as I get closer and closer to
the bottom step. The feeling is irrational as I still have another flight of
stairs to go to actually reach our guests, and yet I can’t seem to breath
steadily.
I pause at the bottom of the stairs and look out to the full moon,
hoping it will give me strength. This is when I notice that there are tiny,
pristine white flecks falling outside. The moon has a bluish hue and this only
adds to the beauty of the picturesque scene out my window. I suddenly feel full
of courage and bravery. Walking down some stairs seems a small feat to
accomplish.
I walk around the corner and to the top of the second flight of stairs,
the stairs that will lead me to the crowd of milling guests. I stand there for
a moment, just looking at my feet. Then, as I realise how pathetic I must look,
I hold my head high and look straight ahead as I start to descend the stairs.
The further down the stairs I go the more people start to look at me. I
can feel the eyes on me, all of them staring. But at the same time, I can feel
the admiration and the awe. I fell proud as I come closer and closer to the
floor. I can see my father amongst the crowd. He is smiling and nodding at me. When
I finally reach the bottom every eye in the room is on me.
***
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