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I’m Lost This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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     The pianist begins playing as we lift our violins to place them gently on our shoulders, allowing our chins to fit comfortably into the black discs on top of our instruments. The violins are beautiful, with their carefully crafted wooden shells and intricately carved parts. Each is unique, yet all are the same. I listen carefully to the introduction; each note is meaningful and adds to the musical account.

I begin playing on the third beat of the fifth measure, but forget the notes as we near the end of the line. Everyone continues playing, but my mind races as I try to find my place. This peaceful experience has been destroyed; I want to run away.

The others are playing flawlessly. Trying to hide my confusion, I continue moving my fingers and crossing the strings while following Anna’s bowings; she stares at me through her intimidating, icy eyes. Does she know I am not really playing? She must, because she will not take her eyes off me.

I turn away and see the audience staring at me, too. Do they know I am lost? I guess as I place my fingers and play random tones. I hear my wrong notes sticking out among the harmony and syncopation of the others. I know the audience is whispering about the tall girl in the back. I feel inferior to the others and nervous about what Anna thinks of me. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry from fear. I worked so hard and I really did practice, so why can’t I remember the notes? Wait a minute, that melody, I recognize this part! Tentatively, I join the others, playing just as beautifully as what I had practiced.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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