Just be like the music.

This is my first time writing so tell me what’s wrong with it, I want to know what I can do to make it better okay ??  By the way I won’t be posting tons of authors notes because that’s what annoys me most about reading these stories, but I wrote one now just to introduce my self J

thanks, xx Julia

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Music has always been a big part of my life. The way a melody can make you feel, each rhythm can change the way you think, every minor and major chord gives you a different meaning to the song. Music can be so much; good, bad, angry, sad, envious, poetic. It can harm and take away, it can make you hurt. However, it can also be a way of expressing your pain or joy.

 In my case, it was there to take away the pain. It was a way to speak to the world and let everyone know how I was feeling. Not a lot of people understood though, they did not understand what music did to me, what it did for me. They never will.

I was not always like this though, obsessed with music. I used to be normal, and listen to music on the radio and sing along to my dad’s latest Radiohead album. I had friends, a guy who had a crush on me. Nevertheless, the most normal thing about me, was when I had a family.

When I was 11 years old I witnessed a murder, three actually. The murder of my father, my mother and my eight year old sister.

We were walking home from the park, Jojo and I had just received the biggest ice cream we ever had, I remember it was the flavour of these violet candies my mom used to buy for Jojo and me. I loved my little sister; her real name was Josephine, I was so jealous when my parents named her that, because I wanted such an elegant name. I was stuck with Julia. Still elegant, but Josephine was better. We called her Jojo, because Josephine is a mouth full. Anyway, Jojo was sitting on my dad’s shoulders feeding him ice cream, and dripping the rest in his hair and all over his shirt. My mom and dad were holding hands and laughing at my sister. I remember my mom’s dress, it was new and she promised me when I was old enough she would give it to me. It was an eggshell white, and swayed in the wind. She looked beautiful. I guess she cannot keep her promise now. Not that I would want the dress, it’s stained red, and won’t come out. I was ahead of them, further down the road, I was going to hide behind a car and jump out and scare them… It worked every time. There was this cherry red car parked on the street, I was wearing my new red coat, so I thought I would blend in well, as a sort of camouflage. I sat behind the car and waited… I could still hear my parents laughing and my sister wailing about her ice cream having melted. Then, I heard a bang; it was so loud I felt a ringing in my ear. Two more bangs after that, and a screeching of a car, and I finally wondered where my parents were. I peeked out from my hiding spot, and I saw them. They were on the floor, lying in a pool of crimson. My mother’s new white dress was now red; it matched my father’s hair. Josephine, my poor little sister, her beautiful angelic face was now stained and covered in mud. I went over to them, picked up my sister and cradled her in my arms; I sat down next to my parents and waited. I don’t remember why or who I waited for, but I just knew I had to stay with my sister, she never liked to be alone, and cradling her always brought her to rest.

After that day, I was shipped over to my aunt and uncle’s place in Boston. My parents always loved Europe, so I was raised in Brussels, Belgium, and went to a European School there. It was a great school and I met so many international students. Greeks, Italians, Spanish kids, English kids, Dutch kids, French and Slovakian, so many different cultures! It was an amazing place to be. I hated America because it was so plain. Only one language was spoken. The food was terrible and my mom always told me it made you fat. The only thing I knew is that it was a beautiful country, it was just boring.

Stephanie, my aunt, enrolled me in a private school called the Academy. I was so ahead in my studies I had to skip a grade. Apparently, it’s not a good thing to be smart at the American Academy, because I was teased about it a lot. This is why I turned to music. I started composing when I was 8 years old, nothing special just some chords that sounded well together. My dad taught me the piano when I was six, I loved it, and so he would practise with me every day for 2 hours when he got back from work. Now, at the age of 17 I’m as good as Beethoven is, says my music teacher. But then again, Mrs. NiRiahn didn’t know much about music. After the “incident” with my parents and sister, I put my feelings into music. I never spoke to anyone about what happened, even though Steph sent me to tons of therapists.

 I’m still forced to see the school counsellor, Dr.Da Costa, every Friday after school. I never said a word though, after my second year at the Academy, he had a piano put in his room. When I walked into his room that one Friday afternoon and found him sitting in his chair as usual, smiling at me, I saw the piano, a beautiful Yamaha baby grand piano. I immediately sat down, pulled out my latest composition and played out all my emotions. That day he finally said we made some progress, and that I could just play piano now when I come to visit.

Another Friday morning flew by as it always did with European history and biology as my first periods. I had lunch as usual in the music room where I would compose and play music for some of the people who’d come there to finish their homework or listen to my playing. I never knew their names, but I’d seen them around school a lot. When lunch was finished I made my way over to Lab Biology, the hallway was more quiet than usual. It was silent. I looked at my watch, which said it was 13:10, I still have time I thought to myself, where the hell is everyone? Mr. Lewis then just happened to walk by me. “Ms. Morton, shouldn’t you be in class?” I looked at him strangely, “uhmm.. No Mr. Lewis not yet I still have 10 minutes, don’t I?” He laughed and pulled up his sleeve showing me his watch, I looked at the time. 13:35. I was 15 minutes late. I was never late. Ever. I ran full speed to my Lab bio room, leaving Mr. Lewis there without an explanation. I was running around the corner, and smacked right into a pole. Well, I thought it was a pole. Turned out it was Dustin. A boy when I’d first arrived here asked me out, I told him flat out “No. I don’t plan on dating you now or ever in the future, I have more important things to worry about.” In addition, I said this to him, in the Hallway where everyone can hear everything. It was all around the school in 3 minutes straight. I tried to apologize after that but he kept saying that I was making up stories to make me look popular. That was the end of a friendship that hadn’t even started and never would in the future.

“Watch out where you’re going freak… oh wait it’s you, Hey Julia, what’s up?” he said, while smiling one of his picture perfect smiles. He wasn’t exceptionally hot, but he was cute. He had light blue eyes, almost like the sea and dark brown hair, which he obviously hadn’t brushed since he woke up this morning. He was tall and had swimmer’s shoulders, but for the rest he was quite normal. He was best friends with the most popular guys in school, Seva who was from Ukraine, he had this slight accent which for some reason made all the girls fall in love with him. I honestly didn’t see it. The annoying thing was though that Seva was incredibly nice. Since he was so nice, someone had to play the mean guy; this is where Dustin comes in. Even though he was a nice guy when you were alone with him, he could be a real son of a bitch when other people were around.

“Late for Lab Bio, is Dr. Clarke mad?” I asked, even though I knew Dr. Clarke wasn’t, he’s probably one of the most relaxed teacher at the Academy, and he was a great teacher too.

“What do you think? Remember when I came in like 5 minutes before class ended, and all he said was, ‘you had a nice time?’ I just said ‘yeah splendid’ and went to my seat, Hilarious! So wait. Why are you late? You’re like smart, smart people are never late”

I laughed and said “ so what you’re saying is that you’re not smart?” he blushed like crimson and looked to the floor, “I’m not that smart, anyway I was in the music room and my watch froze so I thought I had time, guess I was wrong.” I said smiling sheepishly.

“Well you better get in because you are now, 25 minutes late” He said after checking his watch. I swore loudly, slightly startling him, and ran into my classroom, with Dusting in tow. I burst into the classroom, apologizing and explaining why I was so late. Dr. Clarke just smiled, looked behind me and chuckled, he then said the most humiliating 10 words he could ever say; “ Had a good make out session with Dustin, I guess?”

I went bright red and just slumped down in my seat. “Oh my god, she’s not even denying it, how pathetic” “dude she’s obviously still trying to get with Dustin, wtf?” “How lame” “Dustin would never stoop as low as that loser”

And let the rumours commence.