Walking back to the car seemed like forever. The hallway was endless, turning here, then turning there. I thought it would never end. All around me, there were people crying, some for good reasons and some for bad. One girl was talking on the phone saying, “No, I’m being serious! I made it!” I was happy for the girl, but I honestly just didn’t want to hear her voice or see her happy, smiley face. When we finally made it to the parking lot doors, I felt relieved. I was one step closer to getting out of there. I put on my sunglasses, hoping people could not see my red eyes, and started walking back. The car, of course, was on the other side of the parking garage. The walk seemed to be as long as the whole Navy Pier. When we finally reached the car, I got in and just sat there, silent.  The silence seemed absurd especially since just a day ago I was bubbling with excitement.

     Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day I audition for The Voice. Tomorrow is the day that could change my future forever. Driving to school that day was different. I kept thinking what my future could be like: living in California, having paparazzi following me around, going to big movie premieres, red carpet events, and having sold-out arena tours. On the other hand, I could get rejected, and my future would consist of living in Clinton and not be living my dream. After someone looked at me weird, I realized that I was smiling like an idiot which then brought me back to reality. As I approached the school, I was already counting down the minutes until I could leave to go to the wonderful city of Chicago. I was nervous for the audition, but I felt ready.    

     When 12:00 finally arrived, I could not sign out and get to my car fast enough. I jumped in, turned on the car, and started for home. I caught myself having “lead foot” because I wanted to get home as soon as possible. After arriving home, I threw my luggage into my mom’s car, and we were gone. I was on my way to Chicago!

     We checked into our hotel around 5, and then met up with my cousin who lives in the city. She suggested that we go to Dick’s Last Resort for dinner. I was in for a surprise because when we walked in, I had no idea what I was getting into. I did not expect dinner to be so… mean. I would defiantly go to dinner there again! After dinner, we waved down a cab and headed back to the hotel. Back at the hotel, I got ready for bed and sat on the chair overlooking the city. It was lit up in lights, some from offices and some from stores. I watched the people below me, wondering if they knew about the auditions or if some of them were going to audition. I remained looking out the window for another twenty minutes until I decided to get some sleep, since I had a big morning ahead of me.
     Morning arrived fast. I felt as if I hadn’t even fallen asleep, and my alarm was already going off. As I did my hair and makeup, I replayed the song over and over again in my head. I put on my denim shirt and maxi skirt, and we were out the door. In the car, we got lost more than once, so I was starting to get nervous that we would miss my call time. When we finally reached Navy Pier, it was freezing! It was the middle of February, and we were right next to the freezing water breeze. Our feet were frozen. Our faces were frozen. Our bodies were frozen. After standing in the line for an hour and a half, we were finally let into the Grand Ballroom.

     There were lines that registered me in as present, and I began to walk back to the audition rooms. My nerves were through the roof. We sat down on chairs and waited to be called back. When my group was called off, we stood and walked back. Only then did we find out that we had to wait in another line before going into the audition room. We waited for another fifteen minutes, until it was time for my group of ten to go into the room.
     

In the room, a lady was sitting at a table with her laptop in front of her. The room was about as big as two school classrooms. The whole room was red. It was covered in red carpet and had red sound absorbing boards on the walls. She explained how the processed work; first, you sing, and then at the end, your name would get called off to proceed to the next round. She then read the first name. Caragan M. Oh no, I was going first. Why did I have to go first? I stood up, wiped the sweat from my palms and said, “Hi. I’m Caragan M, and I will be singing All Too Well.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and began.

     My first notes were right on key. As I progressed through my song, my voice started to shake. I could tell. Everyone could tell. I kept my head held high, and preformed the rest of my song like I had rehearsed a thousand times before. When I was finished, she said, “Thank you”, and I sat back down. I listened to the rest of the group sing, waiting for the end to reach near, so I could find out my fate. As the last person wrapped up, I began to feel nervous again. In just a minute, I could either be sent home, or I could move onto the next round. Why isn’t she talking? Is she deciding who she is going to take through? The lady was silent for a few seconds, and then she spoke. 
     “I’m sorry; I’m not taking any of you to the next round.” Just like that, my heart was crushed. I felt my stomach drop to the floor. Why didn’t she call my name? Was I not good enough? Did I pick the wrong song? I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. I felt someone running me over with their car. I was the last one to stand up. I looked back at my mom as she was standing at the door. I wasn’t even out the room when the next group came in. All I could think was that maybe one of those people were going to pursue my dream without me. I walked out the door and didn’t look back.
     The walk back to the car was long. I felt like my feet weren’t moving, like I wasn’t making any ground. I was frozen. Stuck. My dream was cut at the root, and I couldn’t save it. Depression hit me like a rock; hard and all at once. I could not get out of this bubble that I was trapped in. It kept on repeating, “You were horrible”, or “You didn’t deserve to move on”. During my depression, I was stuck. I was stuck in this bubble, and I wasn’t getting out.