I was born into the underground. I had no knowledge of what was above me.
I grew up with my mother Jan Smith. I never knew father. I was always told that he had left us when I was born because I looked nothing like him. My mother was left to raise me on her own.
Life underground wasn't easy. It was never meant to be. Those who lived there had either been sentenced there or were the later generation. Once you were in the underground there was no going back up. But so badly did I want to see what was up above.
I was a descendent of those who had been sent to the underground.
My grandfather had come up with a way to travel to places that weren't easily accessible. The government though that it was a threat. They had sent he and his family to the underground.
Not many people above knew about the underground. The government kept it a secret from the outside world. It was something that they didn't want the country to know about. They didn't want them to know about the people who were 'different'. Those who were 'dangerous'.
When I was 13 my mother died in a work accident. I was left to fend for myself.
With being the only one of my family left I had nothing better to do with my time. I often found myself discovering things within the city that I had failed to notice when my mother was alive.
One day I had found an abandoned building. It must have been vacant for a while because as I entered I could make out cob webs hanging from the ceiling. It was a small building but big enough for what ever it was used for.
Along the walls there were many shelves. Some were decorated with small trinkets and others with boxes. Curiosity got the best of me as I pulled down one of the boxes. It was heavy but light enough to carry and was covered in a thick layer of dust.
I placed the box onto a table in the corner of the room. I slowly unclasp the tab on the side. I then found a violin.
I remember my mother talking about when her father would play it for her when she was younger.
That day I had taken it upon myself to learn how to play the violin. I had managed to found books about playing violin in that building.
So it started. I began to teach myself how to play. Although I had no clue of what I was really doing, I came to enjoy playing.
I had found that there were some of us in the underground who knew how to play. I made deals with them so they would teach me. In return I would work around their home, fetch items that they needed, and play with the children.
After a year of work I had learned how to play the violin properly.
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I was 15 now and still had very little knowledge of anything.
I had been able to make some money off of playing my violin but not much. I often spent my time playing in the dark alleys where not many people could find me. I was able to find peace when I was there alone playing.
Girls from my town would always ask me to play for them. Being the person I was I would always play. But it never felt right playing for them. I learned for my mother. It was her who I was to play for. But I couldn't, not now.
