My Life's a Fermata

1st Movement

I thought I'd never want to touch a violin again, especially after that happened. That was the changing point of my life.

I picked up the violin when I was 7, to fulfill my parents' childhood dreams. I never liked the instrument, it was just a burden strapped onto my back by chains called expectations. It pulled me down with it's weight, making me trip and fall, over rocks called competitions, again and again. I stood back up every time, just to see my parents smiling at me, signifying that I cannot give up. Sadly enough, I became skilled at carrying the burden, and soon, the rocks beneath my feet no longer bothered me, I no longer noticed anything.

When I was 10 my dad stopped coming home, at least he stopped being home when I'm conscious. I never really took notice, being in my soundproof room for hours on end, with only a violin beside me. That was also when my mom stopped caring about her appearance. On her best days she would have dark under-eyes and a weak smile, on her worst, well, she would look like she aged at least 20 years overnight. My mom would never let me go into the master bedroom, I didn't know why until after I turned 11.