The Girl of the Night

You Want to Know?

Hello, my name is Rozaria. I was born, cared for the first five years of my life, woke up one morning, and who was there? No one. Ever since, I've been trying to find my purpose, what I will do, what I will become. I have no friends, only the stars to accompany me on my long ventures through the plains and cities that my feet stride upon. You must be wondering why I am telling you this, you must not believe me, for I can tell you that everything that you are about to read is derived from my very own eyes, and is indeed very true. Something extraordinary has happened in my lifetime, that I can finally share with you without my brain feeling like it is being demolished by horrific memories of the past. I am now thirteen years old. I am known as the girl of the night.

JANUARY 7th, 2015, 9:15 A.M.

        Today was incredibly cold, for the city of New York was especially, along with the bustling of women and men running to work, fossil fuel fumes rising up into the air, invading my already weak lungs, therefore making me cough for a ridiculously long amount of time, the coughs so harsh that people sheepishly stepped away from me, as if I had a seriously contagious disease. It seemed as if every third person that I walked by would stare at me with concern and sympathy, being that I was wearing the same clothes that I had purchased nine months ago...you would think that I would have grown out of these, perhaps? Indeed I would have, but I got the clothing three sizes bigger than my size, on a clearance rack in the back of a department store. I clutched the handle of my sily black violin case out of nervousness, for my violin was the only thing that had earned me money, and the only thing that restored my hope in humanity and that my life would become easier one day. I sighed and hung my head low, for it seemed as if my life would never become easy, being that my parents abandoned me several years ago, to figure out how to survive on my own. My father used to play on his trusty violin, a thousand dollars worth, and once the bow hit the string, a sweet, thick sound would resonate off of the violin, filling the whole house with pleasant and delight noises. I never exactly knew why they left when I was asleep, I never knew why they left a note on the refrgerator saying: Daddy and I have to leave now, here is five hundred dollars. Leave home, and take care of yourself okay? We will meet up again some day. Tears appeared in my eyelids, and I violently shook my head, as if to throw the memory out of my brain entirely.

        I arrived at my most favored spot to take out my violin and perform for currency, right in front of the Radio City Music Hall. After years of self-teaching myself how to play the violin, I had learned songs like Pachelbel's Canon, Sonata in Sol Minore, William Tell Overture, Farandole, Dramatic Essay, you get the point. I'd play my violin for five hours on end, and would usually end up with ten dollars worth, and at the end of a week, that would be seventy dollars, enough to spend on a pleasant meal at Applebee's, which was about twenty dollars, and a bookbag to carry my currency in, which was about fifteen dollars. Sometimes, if I was lucky, I would end up with a large crowd, not to go to a musical in Radio City, but for me, and for that moment I would feel like how I always wanted---loved. Ever since my family left, all of the feeling of love inside of me was drained. I stopped thinking about the negatives, and took out my violin to play it's sweet, rich sound.

        SORRY FOR SUCH A SHORT CHAPTER. So yeah this is just an idea that I came up with, and NO, THIS DID NOT HAPPEN TO ME, I JUST WANTED MY OC TO SUFFER.

--RANDOM CLAIMER--Rozaria belongs to me.