The Violinist

Back to School

My alarm clock screams at me to get up. With all the motivation of a sloth, I get up and drag myself to the shower. I know I do not work today and as I shower, I silently thank my father for remembering to pay the water bill and the heating bill. I get out and change into jeans and a white longsleeve with my black hoodie. Going through the routine of my morning, I serve coffee and cereal for my father and start eating. Thankfully, I am not forced to see or hear him right now so I leave quickly. I blast my music to keep myself away but without caffeine, it is hopeless. I manage to get to school and almost immediately fall asleep in my desk. While I have no dreams, the class is too noisy for me to get any real rest. Despite my exhaustion, I still stretch and ready myself for practice. If I had a quarter for everytime I forced myself to play while I was tired, I would buy myself a better violin. Leaving class, I debate whether or not I should just ditch. Deciding I will, I skip my classroom and make the long walk to my locker. As I do, I scroll through the hundreds of songs in my phone and finally choose one. As I listen, I notice a girl with familiar dark brown hair. With dread in my heart, I realize who it is. I duck my head down in hopes to avoid her but despite my efforts, she takes notice of me and makes her way to me. I curse to myself and pretend as if I am ok and well. I try to get rid of her but she follows me to my locker. I accept she is going to follow me around and answer her questions about if I still play, if it is still fun, and whether I am a part of the school orchestra. Answering with yes, yes, and no, I pull out my key for the abandoned room and walk in. She follows me and talks to herself as I get my stuff ready. I play the piece over my headphones and ignore her and open the case. I breathe in the sticky smell of rosin and the maturing scent of wood and I calm down and feel the pull of my bow to my strings. I set up quickly and start getting my piece in order. Thankfully, she had stayed quiet and appears to remain so. An audience is more of a reason to play better and not one to feel nervous. With this in mind, I begin the descent of my new bow upon my strings.