Amadeus M. | Teen Ink

Amadeus M.

April 14, 2014
By Jessy488 BRONZE, Kalispell, Montana
Jessy488 BRONZE, Kalispell, Montana
1 article 0 photos 8 comments

Historical Fiction
When Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was at his most influential peak in his career he gradually became an alcoholic. He and his wife had moved to the suburbs of Austria in an attempt to reduce expenses because they were in financial trouble, he began working more desperately. He had composed over 600 works, many of which include symphonies and concertos that are still performed and appreciated today after hundreds of year. Amadeus was forced to take out loans which put him in an incredible amount of debt he had created; he became anxious which led to drinking. Amadeus would go on short alcohol binges and disappeared for days. Nobody knew what or where he had gone until now.
During the summer of 1789 Amadeus awoke on the dirty floor of a hip new pup across the street from the best cow mart in town.
“Where am I and where are my trousers?” He said to himself as he was using the chair next to him to stand. His head was beating like a drum as he attempted to recall how he ended up in this place. He instantly feared the worst, which was going out to the pup with his annoying neighbor Megan who was close to being a stocker. This would have been a problem because she was secretly in love with him but the feelings were not mutual and he had a wife. Amadeus could finally recall the last place he had been which was in his study composing music with his young apprentice Franz. Amadeus began his walk of shame home down the mail boulevard which was a nightmare. Everybody he knew in town was gathered on the boulevard for the weekly guillotine of prisoners. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten that was today and was embarrassed for looking like a train wreck that didn’t find its trousers. Covering his face with his hand to avoid eye contact and the ever so bright sun he was met with a familiar voice.
“Why didn’t you come home last night?”

“Wifey, I’m sorry you’re right.”
“I know, let’s go.”
After shopping with his wife at the cow mart it was finally time for him to get back to writing. As usually, he sat down at his grand piano with a small glass of merlot and got to work. Late as usually, his studying apprentice Franz stumbled through the front door. Amadeus was always baffled how such a fool whom never worked could afford new clothing and expensive watches.
“You’re late.”

“Sorry, I ran into Megan at the mart complaining and wondering why she’s single.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses, you should have pushed her aside, get me another glass of merlot.”
Franz returned with two glasses. They began discussing the dynamics and articulation uses they were attempting to create when Amadeus blacked out. This time he awoke on the top of his apartment buildings roof, similar to the last time this happened, his trousers were nowhere to be found.
This would occur every so often for the next year. During the fall of 1790 Amadeus was on his most recent walk of shame which was more like a ritual by then when he found a note on his door from a debt collector. It was demanding a large sum of money which he was already aware of. From Amadeus’s perspective the leave fell from the trees harder than they did a year ago. Even with approval and success from the public, things began building up and became more difficult to handle. By today’s standards, he would have been diagnosed with depr4ession. The bottle became emptier with increasing stress and pressure.
Eventually the long nights of work and black outs had caught up with him. Amadeus fell sick in September of 1791. His wife and doctor were doing ever thing they could but he wasn’t recovering. He became occupied and determines to finish his requiem. On his death bed Amadeus became unable to finish this task due to pain and called for his student one last time. Amadeus told Franz what notes to write for every instrument in the symphony knowing in his mind knowing the outcome. As he said the last note Amadeus had died. His student Franz then rose from his chair and arrogantly walked towards Amadeus’s desk and stole his sheet music Amadeus had composed during his blackouts the same way he had after poisoning him for years.


The author's comments:
I was forced by my teacher to do this.

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