Applause. Deafening Applause was the very last thing I heard before it all went completely and utterly silent. The doctors said I was only tone deaf, but I might as well be full-on deaf because everything I hear just sounds like background noise compared to the constant replays of my father's last words to me. You did good, son. I swore I would never let myself so much as touch a string instrument ever again, and yet I still find myself occasionally running my finger along the smooth, rounded curves of my Violin.
It's like I'm being split in half as one side of me argues that my father would want me to keep playing, but the other keeps saying 'No! That violin was the very one that caused your father's death! You should destroy it immediately'. I know I can't keep hiding from everyone, trying to shield myself from their sympathy. I know I can't spend the rest of my life covered in blankets and crying my eyes out. But that's what I keep doing. I can't man up and face the sympathy of humanity. I can't get a grip and wake myself from my tomb. I can't I can't I can't. I want to but yet I don't. I could but yet I won't. It's an impossible situation. There's no good way out. No matter what I do I won't be happy. But somehow, here I am, standing just outside the school doors, waiting for the first bell to ring. Ope, there it goes. Best get moving.
