Every one of those tiring school days at 7:30 am, I slowly walk into the bright orchestra room that seems to lighten up my day, even if it’s a Monday morning. I take in the scents of the freshly sprayed perfumes that the cheerful girls just sprayed in the last few seconds. I walk over to my locker, number 12, which happens to be very squeaky, and I clasp the handle of my slick black violin case. I slammed my locker, not thinking very clearly, and the room goes silent. It was like the sound of a library on a Sunday morning. I chuckle to myself and then I walk over to my bright maroon chair that I sit at every single morning. Right when I stick my hand underneath my chair to adjust it, I feel the sticky, slimy gum that was hiding underneath the chair waiting for me to come. I hear some girls giggle at what I just found under my chair. Then I shrug off what just happened and throw some strong scented hand sanitizer on my hand and shuffle over and grab my shiny black folder for my stand partner and me to share. I shuffle my sheet music around and make my black folder slam on my stand and I unzip my violin case and take my shiny violin out, with the sun burn marks that were created many years ago. I set my violin down on my lap and take my bow that I need to tighten and I also take my musty smelling rosin out and sway the sticky rosin on my bow. I set my rosin back into my case and smell the new case smell that I had recently gotten weeks ago.

Soon the time passes, and everyone starts to come into the bright class room. The room starts to get filled with a lot of smiles, laughter and chatting about the recent things that happened in the commons a few minutes before. Then the extremely loud bell rings and everyone shuffles to their chairs and the first chair violinist starts tuning everybody. The room is now filled with just the scratchy out of tune instruments that are now getting in tune. When everyone gets in tune, the conductor comes up and taps his hard baton on his stand and makes us play some scales then moves onto the sheet music. Soon, he turns on the dreaded metronome that nobody likes. It is this loud ticking noise that repeats it’s self over and over again. Soon, the conductor is asking someone if they are chewing gum that they recently shoved into their mouth hoping they won’t get noticed. And, then you hear some sighs and groans of kids when they have to spit out their fresh new piece of their fruit flavored gum. Everyone soon moves on, and holds and grips their instruments tightly into their hands like they are holding one of their grandmother’s priceless necklaces. We start playing one of our challenging songs that we will soon be playing at one of our concerts. A lot of time passes and the conductor loses track of the time or thinks we have a couple more minutes of class left. But the bell rings when we are still playing, everybody suddenly comes to a halt and rushes to gather their things and then again hear laughter and talking about how some of the kids could not play a certain part in one of our tricky pieces that we were just playing. Soon, you hear the squeaking and the slamming of the lockers. And the students hoping they won’t be late to their next class. Also, the smell of the girls perfume and as I walk past some of the smelly perfume lands into my mouth making me taste a sour and disgusting taste. I quickly take out a new fresh piece of my favorite fruity gum and rush out of the class room and walk to my next class.