The Violin (TEMPORARILY ON HOLD BECAUSE MAN, THIS BOOK SUCKS.)

Loss

Violet's point of view

I sit on the soft bed. Rain streaks down the window, and almost in an imitating manner, my tears go along with them too. They streak down the sides of my face and drip onto the mattress, leaving slightly darker spots than the mattress.

I curl up into a ball on my side and cry. 

He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. 

He's dead.

My dad, the man who gave me my precious violin, the man who loved me and treated me as if I were a child, the man who I loved most in the world is 

Dead.

The funeral was yesterday.

I was expecting it. My father had cancer.

 Now, who could I lean on when I was on a bumpy roller-coaster? 

Who could I pour my secrets out to?

Who would love me as if I were worth more than the brightest diamond in the world?

A treasure?

The one thing I was sure to remember him by was my violin. I looked at it, and a surge of searing hot emotion welled up inside.

"Let it out", my dad would've said. "Let it out, and turn it into music, Violet", he would've told me, handing me the violin. 

So, that's what I did.

 My trembling fingers reach out to take the violin from it's case. It shines alluringly. The corner of my mouth twitches up in a smile. 

Feeling the familiar contact of the bow with my fingers warms me up inside. The touch of the violin pushes my chin up, as if encouraging me. I put the bow to the strings.

And I play.

I play for the memory of my father.

I play for the competition I dedicated my whole life to.

I play for those who have gone through the same things I am going through.

I play for me.

Striking notes fly out. The beginning seems resentful, fiery, and aggressive. Why did he have to go? I unleash my anger on the world, on god, and on anyone, heck, anything that will listen.

The notes fly out faster. I choke on my sobs as the memories of Dad's warm voice rolls through my mind.

  Violet, remember I love you.. Violet, music is invincible.. Violet, your music will someday be unstoppable..

The music goes from angry to bitter. Why? the music seems to cry out. Why did he have to go? It is angry, sad, and everything in between. It lashes out. But it only seems lonely and pitiful.

Then the music grows sweet. Joyful. I'm brought back to all the happy memories of Dad I keep.

I end the song on a bittersweet note.

Tears still fall down my cheeks, but my lips are curved up in the most joyful smile ever. Dad would want me to smile, not cry.

I'm ready for battle.

The competition is tomorrow. I will not- must not disappoint my father, wherever he is now.

 I will win. 

For Dad.