Joining the Dots

Chapter 9

The next few days pass in a blur. I busy myself; I can't let myself feel the weight of my upcoming audition. I allow myself to be numb. It's easier this way, even though, in the back of my head, I know that when my jar of bottled emotions is eventually opened, it will be all the worse for it. And so, I go to lectures, I practice, I play to Gramps and I watch TV with Cam. I don't feel any of it.

And then there's only one day left. One day until my future is decided. One day until someone I have never met gets to decide my life, gets to decide my worth. It is not a good day. I can't convince myself to be positive. I don't feel ready. I'm not ready. I'm not good enough. I don't eat. I just practice.

I play. I play. I play.

It's not good enough I tell myself over and over again. It's not perfect. I'm not ready.

I have been practicing for hours and the piece is still the same. I play it again.

My spine is burning from the weight of the harp. How long have I been playing? My right shoulder is raw from continuous rubbing of the wood against it. I play the piece again. The harp feels like sandpaper against my skin. I need to play it again. The strings, like razors, bite into my fingers every time I pluck.

"Allie, Look at me."

I didn't hear him come in. How long has Cam been here? how long has he been talking to me? I brush it off. I keep playing. It's not perfect. I need it to be perfect.

"Please," I hear urgency in his voice, "What did you do Allie?"

He pulls my hands off the strings. Only now do I notice the warm blood trickling from my fingertips. I stop and watch as a drop of crimson carves its path across my skin and cascades to the wooden floor. I watch it fall and as it splatters to the floor, I break.

"What if I'm not good enough? There are so many more talented people than me. I'm sick of pretending that I have a shot at this because I really don't. I'm scared Cam. I want to be brave, I want to be strong enough to make it in life, but I'm not. I'm so weak."

Cam takes my harp from me and holds me. A silence is caught in the air between us. I hold my breath.

"Do you think Churchill was born knowing how to lead a country? Do you think Ed Sheeran came out the womb singing and playing guitar? Do you think J K Rowling knew how to write straight away?"

Silence. my mind swirls. He continues,

"No. They worked for it. You have so much talent Allie, but even if you didn't, you don't need talent, you need individuality and you need hard work. And you work harder than anyone I know. You are so brave. Bravery doesn't come in slaying dragons and courage isn't in being strong all the time. Courage is taking setbacks and carrying on anyway. Courage is in trying again. Courage is in being scared but pushing through it. Courage is in being so tired but waking up each morning to face the same demons you face every day. You are brave, Allie, you always have been. And you have me. You have me and I believe you can be strong enough."

I hug him closer but the thoughts are still warping themselves around my brain. How will I get through tomorrow?

He takes me through to the kitchen table. I am numb again now, except the stinging in my fingertips. He takes my hands in his and cleans the blood from them, placing plasters on the raw skin.

He takes me up to my room. It's late now and so I let him lead me to the soft, comforting bed. He brings me some toast but I leave it on the side. He tells me to try to get some sleep. We both know that sleep is not going to come easy tonight. Next time I look up, he has left. I wish I could sleep. I wish I could forget for a while but my mind is a river tonight. Is it possible to drown in your thoughts?