Violin

• Alva Kumlin, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2015

Violin

One more time, I think to myself one more time Eliza and then you can stop. I take a deep breath, position my violin and count myself in 1…2…3 and I play until my fingers bleed. Seriously, I played so hard that the skin on my pointer finger broke. I suck on it hoping that I won’t need a band-aid. Because that would get in the way of my playing, and I cannot let that happen. I have an audition in two days for the Royal Australian Performing Arts Academy, and I need to ace it or seven years of money for my tuition will go down the drain. This audition will make or break my music career.

“Eliza”! I hear my mum calling for me, I groan and make my way towards her “what”? I ask as I round the corner and head into the kitchen, “Today’s audition day”! She shrieks excitedly “yeah, I know mum” I say faking boredom ignoring the enormous swarm of bees in my stomach.

“Are you ready?” my mum asks, I take a deep breath and say “I don’t think I can do this Mum”, but I don’t think she heard me, because she just nods.
“Eliza!”, a woman dressed in black calls, “that’s me” I answer quietly “okay honey come with me you’re on next” my breath starts to quicken and my palms are sweating like crazy I think my mum noticed my distress, because she whispers in my ear “you’re going to blow them away Eliza” I merely give a tight nod in response. I follow the lady in black down a series of corridors until we reach a huge curtain. “Okay, when you go on introduce yourself, tell them your name, age, and what you will be playing” she says in a hushed voice “okay”, I whisper back.

I slowly make my way to the red cross that is marked on the middle of the stage. “Hello my name is Eliza, I am 15 years old, and I will be playing Minuet” I state, sounding more confident than I feel. “Whenever you’re ready”, says one of the three judges. I take a deep breath, position my violin, and play. I am playing my heart out for these three strangers. As I play, I notice that all but one of the judges aren’t paying any attention to me. I quickly snap myself out of thought and concentrate on playing my piece to perfection. Once I finish, one of the judges said to me in a monotone voice “you may leave” I nodded and shuffled off the stage.

Once I get off the stage, I am greeted by my crying mother “that was beautiful” she stammered
“thanks mum” I whisper into her shoulder as she pulls me into a tight embrace.

For a week, I wait for my acceptance letter, but it never comes. Five weeks later, I get a letter, saying the thing I had been waiting my whole life for.