The sky was cloudy and looked ready to burst. I was traveling down the same boring road on the way to the grungy third floor apartment I shared with my mom. The weather is always like this and the constant threat of rain really puts a damper on everyone's mood.
My name is Katherine, but everyone calls me Kat. I don't have any special abilities, I'm not smart and I feel like I am the bane of my own existence. I am 16 years old as of 6 months ago, and I've screwed up almost every opportunity for success that has presented itself.
Regardless of me not having any talents or special prodigious abilities I do have one passion. Playing the Violin is my favorite thing of all time. It's the only thing that keeps the depression and self-hate away.
The door creaks as I open it. I glance at the grimy clock on the wall above the stove. 2:30 pm it reads. Mom isn't home yet, I wasn't expecting her to be, she usually works afternoons and drinks half the night because she hates her crap job; cashiering at Wal-Mart isn't all it's cracked up to be.
The low grumbling of my stomach forces me to turn and search the cupboards for food, but I find nothing but a box of Saltines. Yum. I grab the crackers and go up to my room, to contemplate life and the meaninglessness of it. As I lay there munching my crackers the sun shines through the dirty window, spotting the floor and illuminating my precious violin, feeling a temporary surge of happiness I lurch up from my slumped position and grab the instrument. Humming a soft tune that has been running through my head all day, I straighten my spine and rest the instrument on my collarbone, nestled up against my neck. I finger the first chord, readying myself to play the first note from the four note melody in my head. I close my eyes, wanting to feel the sensation of the sound. As I carve the low hum from the violin with my lavish horsehair bow, goosebumps grow along my arms and up my spine. Continuing the melody from my head losing myself in the notes, practicing different combinations of the four chords, adding more and creating a deeper more heart wrenchingly emotional melody. I pause in my ecstasy to write down the new chorus, feeling the best I have in days.
As I'm putting the pencil back on my desk my phone buzzes in my pocket, it's an email. Strange, why would anyone voluntarily email me? I chase away anyone close to me, severing relationships before my so-called friends can betray me. I've been hurt too many times to count, and I'm not about to allow myself more heartache than I already have.
Out of plain curiosity I tapped the open button, in no way prepared for the message that followed.
"Dear Katherine Jorgensen,
We are excited to inform you that you have been granted the opportunity to perform in the Prestigious Classical Scholars Program, in two months. We hope to see you there with your favorite piece of music and a great attitude!"
Sincerely, Natalie Hope (first chairwoman; P.C.S.P).
****
My heart jumped into my throat and I dropped my phone on the carpet. I had completely forgotten about this audition. Still reeling from the surprising news I lay down on my unkempt bed trying hard to make sense of today. 'How did I, a 16 year old girl make it in, of all the other talented people, why me?' I asked myself this until I heard my mom's footsteps outside and her key turn the lock. 'She's home early tonight' I thought as I dragged myself off the bed, checking the clock on my desk top: 9:35pm. Huh. Maybe she'll be happy to hear the news; I have yet to decide if it's good or bad. I crept silently to the living room where my mom was struggling to pull out the bed in the couch. I touched her arm slightly and gave her a small smile indicating that I'd pull the bed out.
Deciding to pull out the bed and help her get settled before I told her the news.
"Guess what mom!" I feigned excitement because I hoped that if she saw I was excited about something, she would be excited for me.
"What?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at me. At least there was no condescending undertone to it this time.
"I received an email from the Prestigious Classical Scholars Program today. You remember the one I auditioned for a few months ago?" She nodded. That's surprising considering this is the longest she's been sober in a month. "Well I apparently did really well and got invited to attend this year!"
"Honey, that's great and I'm honestly really proud of you. You deserve it. Haven't I told you that you're talented?" I frowned and decided to be honest with her.
"No, actually you've never told me that." It's part of the reason I push everyone away. I was just going to ask her why she was home so early and actually acknowledging my existence when her voice interrupted my thoughts.
"-- quit my job, and start over!"
"Wait, you're quitting your job? Since when? I mean I know you hate it but when did you decide this?" she interrupted my rambling and simply said:
"It's because, I want to start over. I'm going to go to A.A meetings and go back to school. I wish I could have done this earlier, and been able to support us better. Your amazing news about your success in music convinced me to follow my dreams as well. I know I haven't been the mother I should have been all these years, and I know I'm the reason you push potential friends away. I promise I'll try, for both of us."
I was speechless, my current world of dark clouds and low self-esteem came crashing down around me and I saw myself for what I could be, an amazing classical musician, an my mother; supporting me and not worrying about having enough, money, food, time... . I forced myself to hug the woman sitting in front of me, and fought back tears of happiness.
Wishing my mom a goodnight I went back to my room where I picked up my violin and played a soft melody, coaxing my nerves to relax. Pulling out my phone I sent a reply to the Program telling them thank you and letting them know I'll be performing an original song. Distraught, with all the changes in my life that occurred in the last few hours, I pulled the covers down and lay in my bed contemplating life and how strange it can be.
YOU ARE READING
*TBA*
Short StoryI'm not good at writing descriptions without giving away the end. So, read it for yourself and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!