I was in my
seat reviewing origin rules in my mind, and waiting for the microphone to be
passed to me, as the other 50 tense, nervous, and assured school champions
spelt out their words. Now it was my turn. I was handed the microphone and I
stood up, fairly confident in my ability, since I knew all of the competition’s
words. “Bountiful” the announcer announced. I repeated the word, and slowly and
steadily spelt bountiful. They confirmed my spelling and I handed the
microphone to the next contestant. Since I spelt the first word right, I
confidently awaited my next word. Round 1 ended, and round 2 started. The
microphone was handed to me. “Bellow” was my word. I politely asked for the
definition, and then once again began to spell out the word. By the end of
round 2, half of the people were gone. This went on for 2 more rounds with
increasing difficulty. For rounds this continued, bountiful, bellow,
polymathic, and paraphrasable, now it was time for the final round. By then,
only few were left standing, yet to fall.
Palms
sweaty, legs shaking, I awaited my final word. If I got this word correct, I would
win the spelling bee. It was my turn, and I unwillingly stood up. I was handed
the microphone. The pronouncer asked the audience members to quiet down for
this final round. My mom, principal, and many other people were watching, eyes
on me. There was a lot of pressure on my shoulders. The word was given.
“Purveyor”, the pronouncer says, I repeat the word, getting how it sounds.
After asking the definition, alternate pronunciations, and part of speech, I
turned to the judges. “P-u-r-v-e-y-o-r” I said slowly. I waited for the bell to
ring stating my spelling is incorrect, yet none ring. I had gotten the word
right and won the spelling bee. The judges and pronouncer congratulated me, and
I was qualified for the county spelling bee. I won my certificate and walked to
where my parents are sitting. I remembered how my teachers at spell success
taught me certain rules, I remembered how I never gave up, and I remembered my
parents telling me to keep on going, and pursue spelling. As I left, I thought
about these things, and walked through the same doors, happily, not nervously.
