Violin Heart Strings

Chapter 1- An introduction to the activist

Where did it all start?
When I fell in love with him?
When I realised a heart can't be divided into two?

Or did it all start when I smashed Keane 's violin?

Yeah..... It probably started there.

To be honest, I didn't exactly smash it.......on the ground. I kinda smashed it against a bigger-violin-thingy (tjello?) player's head. Don't judge. I'm a liberational activist/protester and it was for a good cause, although most people will tell you it was a pure act of craziness
which, in a sense, it was.

But still.
Liberation.
Activist.
Good cause.
Smashed violin.(and partially smashed tjello player's head)

That basically sums up the events of 22 December 2015. Yes, a smashing Christmas concert. Leading up to that event was a series of events.

The first being, what I like to call, 'The libe-fake-ionist'. Lorraine Brooks, 2014 student body president, described herself as a liberationist and her first act of 'liberation' was freeing 'the people' of the no kissing in the hallways rule.

Her speech was really inspirational(note the sarcasm) but what really changed the rule was her father's deep pockets. Lorraine claimed that she 'liberated' the lovers but actually she just freed teenage pregnancies.

I guess I kind of owe it all to Lorraine. She's half the reason I became an activist, to show the world what it really means. So in my junior year I started N.E.O.N Non-Experimental Organisation for Nimals. I couldn't really find a way to incorporate 'N' and animals, so I just scratched the 'a' and people were basically okay with it (some of them were so dumb they probably didn't see anything wrong with it).

I thought about starting S.U.R.F kids. Society for UnderRepresented Fat kids but, honestly, I live in California, meaning 25% of kids are anorexic, 25% are suicidal (they won't live long enough for me to make an impression on them), and the other 50% are willingly underfed, living on rabbit and/or goat food, blaming it on their birdlike metabolism. They're not fooling anyone.

We basically had one genuinely fat kid in school. I would have loved to liberate Daniella Lebouch from her cage but unfortunately she got arrested and stuffed into juvie for an unmentionable crime before I could even talk to her.

Plus, S.U.R.F wouldn't really count as a liberational activity if you look at it technically. Anyway, N.E.ON. worked great. I protested outside of local labs demanding to have their premises searched for any illegal experimenting.

My band of activists didn't just stick to experimenting though, we volunteered at animal shelters, raised money for dog food and we even got the school to stop dissecting innocent frogs. The school board noticed us and were pretty impressed with our project.

So impressed in fact, that we became an official club.
Now here's the catch. The school funded one charity event once a year for Christmas and as the genius I admit to being I proposed a neon Christmas. Of course it worked and we'd be the charity.

It was going to be great. We'd have a kind of colour throwing festival like they have in India with a band performing, the works(fireworks).

Then they shut us down on the fifteenth of December. Thousands of costs down the drain, so much in fact that the club was obliterated. Heartbroken, I came to school only to see a poster advertising the Christmas charity. A string quartet consisting of a milieu of Russian names and in Bold print.
Keane Satlow.

Keane was considered a genius around here. Okay, not considered, he was a genius. A real child-prodigy with an IQ people didn't believe possible. I always thought Keane was a bit of an odd ball. His hair was way too long but instead of letting it hang it somehow always stood around his head like a black avalanche.

He grew stubble on his cheeks and occasionally it would become a proper beard when he forgets to shave. His big black alabaster eyes were dark and void of emotion contrasting his paper pale skin. He was tall but slumped as if he was sorry for living.

People said he turned into another person once he picks up a violin but I've never bothered to see him play. I have never even said two words to him, so as far as I was considered he was this.

The guy who stole my charity.
This tugged at my gut and wrenched me in all directions but mostly, into the protester part. I was livid.

It turned out to be just a fancy-ass concert. No charity. Unacceptable.

So I took a deep (some say foolish) decision to teach them a lesson. I decided not to drag my fellow activists into this and to go it solo.

So on the eve of the 22nd I snuck backstage, dressed in a colorful neon jumpsuit and a dog mask. Armed with a spray can and a whole lot of courage (or stupidity)

I stormed onstage and heard the collective gasp of a seven hundred audience(it was fricken cool by the way!) as I stood centerstage. For a while I did not know what to do but soon enough I remembered the game plan.

Scream "Clarity to Charity!" and spray a huge X on the floor. I did that but improvised a bit. The stunned performers looked at me like I'd just murdered someone.

I did.

I murdered their spotlight I guess. Keane was up. A frown creasing his brow and I decided on him. I grabbed for his violin but he wouldn't let go so I punched him squat in the nose as he fell back.

The other performers were already approaching and the tjello player was basically on me so, using my only weopon, I smashed the violin to bits on his head.

Someone in the audience screamed. After that I felt such a rush, I decided to convey one more message. It was supposed to be. "Give a voice to animals!" but I never got to do that, because at that moment Keane lifted his bloody face from his bleeding nose (it was funny. He looked like a character out of a horror movie. Fancy suit, crazy as ever hair and blood. Creepy!) and unmasked me.

To make a long story short.....
I was screwed.....
Yep. That was how it started.