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   Chapter 3 3 Cataclysmic

The Partnership By Natasha Larson Characters: 5628

Updated: 2018-06-04 18:49


I didn't cry.

I never cried, and I doubt that I ever will.

I just got up and went straight to the room in the basement Ivan had cleared for me. He knew where I came from so when I told him I needed a place to be alone, this was it.

I pulled out my keycard and opened the locked door, walking door the cement stairs. There was no door to the room because it was the only one there. I walked in, switching on the light. It was an old bulb, I always felt safe when I pulled the cord to the light bulb.

The room lit up, countless pages and books of music lined the room, along with normal books. It was my safe haven away from it all when things got to be too much. Smiling as my eyes found the case in the middle of the room, I walked over to the music shelf, picking my absolute favourite piece of all time.

I pulled the sheets out and put them on my music stand with a sigh of relief. I opened the case and pulled out my violin. I really liked the orange tint the wood had, and it looked glossy and bright. I put rosin on the bow and tuned my violin, using only my ears. Thanks to my great memory, I really didn't need the music, but it added to the whole aesthetic of the place.

Bringing the violin in between my shoulder and my neck, I almost laughed at how much pain this instrument causes me, yet I still love it. The calloused fingers, the shoulder knots, the neck pains, the frustration, the arm cramps.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, imagining the pages in my mind. Relaxing, I allowed myself to play.

My bow gliding across the strings, creating a marvellous sound that I loved. My fingers were numb, I haven't been able to feel them for years, or at least for as long as I could remember.

The sound of my favourite piece echoed through my ears as I played it. Winter by Vivaldi, a personal favourite.

The shifts I had to make at such a fast tempo were quite awkward, but I made sure that every note was the embodiment of perfection. Back at the institute, we needed something to keep us busy, they gave us a table of trinkets and told us to pick. I was chosen to go first because I was the 'favourite'.

I walked over to the plastic table, an array of things I'd never seen before laid there. The first object was a black and white ball, I had no idea what you'd use it for, so I kept moving. The next three objects I couldn't even describe to you. One was a block with little blocks inside of it that were coloured. Ridiculous.

Finally, the fifth object, something caught my eye. Whether it was the delicate curvature of the side, or the thin strings that banded from the top to the bottom, I had decided this was my item. I pointed to it and turned to mum, the new name we'd been told to call her.

"Excellent, get Rob for the violin lessons." She announced,

walking away.

I was playing aggressively now, struggling to move my hand as fast as the book commended it to. Suddenly, I played an E flat instead of an E natural, the spot I used to mess up in, and I nearly fell over.

Not because I messed up a note, but because of the punishment that was associated with it.

The wrong note rang through the air like a pierce through the heart. I put the violin down, not bothering to retry because I knew what happened if I messed up. I walked over to Rob, my instructor, and put my right hand down on the table, face up.

He grabbed the metal ruler and bent it back before releasing it, allowing it to smack my hand. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out, that would make for extra punishment.

"What position were you playing in when you made the mistake, Isabella?" Rob asked me, his eyes stern.

"Fifth." I muttered quietly.

"Don't mumble." He snapped, hitting me again. I nearly whimpered, but I caught myself just in time.

"Fifth." I said louder. Rob sighed, as if it actually pained him to do this. He smacked my hand four more times before telling me to play it again.

I looked down at my hand, the two lines still marked it, scarring it permanently. I closed my hand into a fist and played a different song, a fluid song that would calm me down for sure.

Gavotte by Bach.

I'd never admit it out loud, but I couldn't remember which one was which, there were so many. It was probably Gavotte in G minor, but I've never had the opportunity to be wrong.

This time when I played, my fingers slid across the strings, my wrist moving back in forth in a technique called vibrato, one that took me years to master. I shivered, but thankfully it didn't trigger another memory.

Once I finished the piece, I wiped down my violin delicately and put it back in the case gently. Placing the music back on the shelf, I went back up the stairs and out of the door, but not before shutting off the light of course

Now that I was more relaxed, I had a smile on my face. I went to twist the handle of a door, but a painful sensation ran through my hand. I looked at my hand and found a small cut on my ring finger from pressing on the strings too hard.

I sighed, this wasn't something I was unaccustomed with so I just figured that I'd tend to it later. I made my way back to the room at a leisurely pace, I was in no rush. I waved at people and smiled at everyone that walked by. Whether they returned the gesture or not, didn't matter to me because I wouldn't let others bring me down, I promised myself that a long time ago.

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Sorry for the super boring chapter, but I have to get her past through to you guys and I play the violin so it was easy for me to write about this.

You play an instrument? - Violin and flute.

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