Playing the violin energizes me. It soothes my soul and shapes it. It makes me feel like the world does not matter to me.
Living up to people's expectations is not worth my time; I live in my own reality.
I face everything that meddles in my business. Be it my family or peers. Nothing comes in between.
I grew up isolating myself from worldly desires and virtues. I only know my violin, my companion. The rest of the world does not mean anything to me.
Until one day... when my violin went missing.
"Calm down, honey. It's okay. We'll buy you another one."
"No!!! I don't want another! I want my violin!"
No one understands me and the notes of my violin. They never do. They never will. This world is filled with filth. Nothing can purge the filthy minds of people other than music. Music is compassion. Music is redemption. Music is what brings meaning to one's life. It can heal the deepest wounds.
My life was unpleasant. All the high-pitched noises tortured me. All the squeaks and screeches, they made me go deaf. But when I got my violin, my life became a synchronized romance. In one way or the other, it healed me with its beauty. It was so otherworldly that I never had to think of the world again.
My violin was lost. It left a deep wound in my soul. I was in pain. I slept for days. I searched for something that could not be found. Just where was my violin?
Three weeks after the incident, I decided to step out of my house and look for my violin on the streets.
YOU ARE READING
A Page of Gloom
Short StoryTRIGGER WARNING: This story contains sensitive content such as anxiety, depression, suicide, etc. which some may find disturbing. This short story collection revolves around the minds of youngsters and how they cope with negative emotions.
