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

Hope

A week passes by. It feels more like a decade. Being stuck in a crummy hospital bed certainly changes your perspective of the world.

I sigh and lean back into the pillows. The room smells of morphine and hand sanitizer. The smell stings my eyes, for some reason.

The doctor opens the door and comes in. I glare at him. I don't want to be here. I want to be anywhere but.

He lifts up the whiteboard. He has written something on it. I lean forward.

We have good news, Ms Barrera. Good news is that you are to be extracted from hospital today.

I lean back against the rock hard pillows again. I don't want to give any reaction.

The doctor puts down the whiteboard and leaves the room.

.•*•.

Stacy McAllister from school is picking me up in her car. Stacy was held back in our grade for two years, so she's actually old enough to drive.

"So... You have a concussion?" I read her lips. Guess no one told her about my new... Condition.

I take out a piece of paper from my bag.

I'm deaf, Stacy. I can't really hear you.

Stacy looks kind of shocked. She nods twice, as if to assure me that she understands.

The car rides stretches on in awkward silence.

.•*•.

Stacy opens the car door for me and hands me the crutches I'm using. I nod my thanks to her and hobble back inside.

Luckily I won't have to learn sign language all over again. I learned it back when Mom was still alive. She was deaf too.

I sigh. Perfect.

My eyes settle on the violin. How am I supposed to play? The doctor claimed I couldn't, but since when do I listen?

I limp over to the violin. Its smooth and somewhat dusty from being neglected for a week.

I gently blow the majority of the dust off and brush off the rest.

I raise it to my chin. For some reason, it feels foreign in my hands. It feels like a stranger.

I sigh. I've lost... well... Everything. Or mostly everything.

Nevertheless, I'm going to prove the doctor wrong. I'm going to play and no one will stop me.

I lay the bow across the strings and begin to play the familiar tune of Vivaldi Summer.

But it is no longer familiar. It no longer provides the sense of 'home' that it used to. I can't hear anymore, and it's changed everything.

But my feelings are irrelevant. All I need to do is win the competition. That is all that's necessary.

But first, I need to find a pair of ears.

.•*•.

"Madmoiselle!" I say, limping into the dress shop. Madmoiselle Adelaide. My new pair of ears.

"Mon chéri! Tu-tu n'entends plus?" I read her lips. I shake my head weakly. No. I can't hear her.

Her mouth opens in shock. I think she's gasping.

She takes me by the arm and leads me to a chair. At least, she tries to. I tug back lightly in retaliation and point to my violin. She shakes her head like a disapproving mother, but lets me hobble my way over to the back of the store.

I unclasp my violin case and lift it out. I tell her in sign language: You're my new pair of ears. Madmoiselle, I need you to listen to my playing and tell me whether it's right. I know you used to play violin as well. I need your help.

The madmoiselle has a deaf daughter. She understands every word of what I tell her.

She nods. She has a determined expression on her face. She is like a mother, ready to do anything for her child.

"Violet. Je vais vous aider du mieux que je peux ," she begins seriously.

I smile at her.

"Si vous acceptez help me with the shop," she finishes, smirking.

"Fine," I groan. She pats me on the arm. "Then what are we waiting for?" I read her lips.

I snort at her comment, and put the bow to the strings.

.•*•.

I drag the bow across the strings one last time. The song has ended.

I open my eyes and see the madmoiselle crying into a handkerchief.

She signs at me: Darling, that was beautiful. Your music will take you far.

Madmoiselle is exaggerating. No way deaf me would be able to play that well.

Very funny, Madmoiselle. We all know you're exaggerating, I smile at her.

It's true, Violet. It's all true, she signs back.

.•*•.

I make my way down the sidewalk. The violin case is light in my hands. I giggle. Does this mean I can actually play?

I twirl around and jitterbug my way through the puddles. Lalalalala, I hum. I can't hear it, but there's a new sense of hearing now. Its fixated into all my senses, and it feels... New.

The competition is next week! I sing and dance, tap dancing through the empty streets.

I probably look like a weirdo to most, but if you were going through what I am right now, you wouldn't care at all.

First life mercilessly beat me up and threw me into a dumpster. Then it took pity on me and sent an angel, the angel being Madmoiselle Addie, who lifted me out of the dumpster and sat me back down on a couch with a bowl of chicken soup.

And sometimes, that's all you really need.

But this time, not so much. I need that sense of victory.

And that's why I need to win.