The Last Note
    In the airlock of the Dome, there among my friends garbed in black and white, I  waited. Waited for those doors to open, creaking on their hinges, rusted from years of use. Then, the rush of air, signaling the rise in air pressure. But right now, there was no creaking, no air pressure rising. All that I could here were the shuffling of feet, my friends as nervous as I. I could also hear this pulse, irregular and rapid... my heart. The beating was so loud and fast against my chest, it seemed like everyone in that small dark, dank chamber could hear it.
    In the next moment, I heard a moan, a blast of air, and my heart felt like ice. In that small second, I heard the command through my frigid haze and stepped onto the field. Into the blazing fluorescent lights, and the roar of the crowd. The moment we were free, I knew this was going to be the best show in my short marching band career.
    All of the tension started when I arrived at school early in the morning, around 6:00 AM Friday morning. We all waited next to the school for the coach buses that would take us around Indianapolis to arrive. They were running late, so we were getting a little pissed. When the buses finally arrived, we loaded our large suitcases under the bus. All the rest of the luggage went with us into our already crowded seats. The buses each sat up to 90 people, two seats in each row. There were three buses total, but I had the misfortune of being on the guard bus, the largest.
    It took us about 2 and a half hours for us to arrive at our practice field, which just so happened to be Purdue University. This place was huge - so big I almost got lost on the way to the bathroom and back. We practiced long and hard, until it was time to head off to the RCA Dome - time for the real deal. We all brought our instruments on the buses with us, where we also had to change into uniform. Mind you, its hard getting into a 2 piece uniform while trying not to drop an expensive 7 pound euphonium. We all sat down and went over our drill charts and music in our heads, no one talking or goofing of like usual. The reason for all the seriousness, was the competition we were headed to. Quite possibly the biggest marching band competition known to most bands, the BOA Grand Nationals Competition wasn't something to take lightly. Over 90 bands competed here, and only 30 were allowed to semifinals. As the ride stretched on, my mind began to wander. Being the freshman I was, I started thinking things like, "Why am I here?" "This is pointless" "All I'm going to do is work my ass off, and in the end get just a lousy trophy?!" This wasn't the first time I had had doubts about marching.
       While I was off in la la land, my friend had been whispering encouraging statements. Well, seeing as I didn't hear them, I didn't respond. In fact, i didn't move until I saw the bleach white top of the dome in the distance. I tugged on my friends sleeve, getting her attention. She gave me this 'now you want to talk' expression(which i completely ignored) as I pointed to the Dome. We all walked off the bus in a somewhat orderly fashion- at least nothing was broken, like a horn- I stood there, transfixed on the massive building in front of me. The sheer size of the Dome wasn't what frightened me-it was the fact that we had to go inside of it.
      We all got into a simple block formation, so it wouldn't be so chaotic going into the physical warm-up room. Well, the room was more like a warehouse, but you get the picture. We marched forward onto the concrete, the clicking of our heels bouncing off the slate gray walls. Once inside, the marching instructor barked orders at us, telling us what to do and to do it right the first time. Lets just say the tension was a little high. Once we were through with stretches and drilled to accurate precision, we all broke off into groups according to instrument(low brass, clarinets, trumpets, etc.). There, we went through some musical warm-ups to help wake up our sleepy lips and tongues. Although we were separated and playing different things, I couldn't believe the sound that we were producing was actually coming from us. It's like I had never listened before, and I needed the echoing walls to help me. It was beautiful.
       "Band! Get into your lines!" was shouted above the noise, and everyone went quiet. We all moved at the same time, getting into our exact position for the beginning of the show, only in condensed lines. We marched forward, two by two, toward the large doors that would take us to the airlock. I think I went numb right around this time. Once everyone was inside, including parents who were moving the pit equipment, the shut the doors behind us with a deafening boom. No one even flinched. We were all either too lost in our thoughts, or scared shit less. Guess which one I was.
      As I tried not to hyperventilate, I felt rather than heard the pressure rising, and next thing I knew my ears were popping. The sound of metal against concrete was what met my ears next- not a pleasant sound. I saw as the massive doors swung inward, toward us. We were all hit with a wave of fluorescent light, and we were given the command to move. My first glimpse into the Dome was by far the best. I looked up and over my friends heads, and saw a sight to behold. On the jumbotron, was a Mellophone player, playing his heart out on Seasons of Love. I nearly cried it was so gorgeous. When my foot hit something springy, I looked away. We had left the concrete for Astroturf. We stood on the sidelines, waiting for the band ahead of us to finish.
     When the announcer, with his booming voice, called our name, I really began to sweat. The judges gave the all clear, and our Drum Majors gave the signal to start moving. We spread out on the field in our opening set, a scatter set. We all stood there, waiting for the Drum Major to give the starting beat. I stood, in my bent over position, my pose, staring at the ground. I began to think again, "Why must I do this to myself?!". The next thing I heard, was the hauntingly beautiful solo, played by the mellophone, that signaled the start of our show. The next few moments, and the entire band started moving. All of us pulling together to form a tight circle, that would then explode into another form. I knew, then and there, why I did this to myself. Why I worked my ass off. I did all of this, to show not only the world, but also my myself, that I could do it. I could march a Grand National worthy show.
    We all hit that one, long hold at exactly the right moment, driving the already crazy crowd into a frenzy. I could tell, with out a doubt, that this was gong to be our best.
    "Yeah! Keep going!" was the ecstatic shout from the sidelines-probably an instructor, or even an over emotional parent- I couldn't tell, seeing as I was a little busy- cheering us on, like so many others. I chanced a quick glance up into the stands, and almost laughed. Instead of the standard crowd, I saw an ocean of black and blue. (Black was my school color, and Blue was the color chosen for the show) All of our parents and friends who came to see us were all sitting together; you could call them our fanclub I suppose.
      With all of this excitement, I didn't notice a dull ache in my left shoulder that grew into a sharp jab right above my shoulder blade. I winced when I moved my arm, pain trailing down to my wrist and lingering there. I tried to ignore it, but the distraction was to much. My injury was acting up, of all times. The pain made me loose my focus, causing me to fumble with my step. I was moving backwards, when I stepped on something- a foot. I nearly fell, but managed to save myself at the last moment. The fall wasn't what startled me; it was the fact that I screwed up big time in front of the cold, unblinking gaze of a judge. I nearly freaked, getting my focus back and finding where I was in the song. I stayed so focused, the jumbotron could have blown and I wouldn't have noticed.
        We all stopped, hitting the final note exact and accurate. I hadn't realized it at first, but there were tears running down my face. They continued to flow as the Drum Major cut us off, the note still ringing. They started to fall as we swiftly turned and marched off the field. The only proof that we were on the field moments before,  was the clear note that still rang throughout the dome. Our final note.