The Seven Years

Third Year: April 17 (Perfect/Practice)

The first few years away from the community were bleak. As Eddy looked out at the gray cloudy sky from their makeshift hut, he sighed, inching closer to Brett.

"You cold?" Brett murmured.

Eddy nodded, snuggling in to Brett's shoulder. His friend responded by wrapping his arm around Eddy's waist, lulling him to sleep.

He stood in the tiny Livingroom, preparing to play. Before he could lift his bow, however, his father slapped his arm. "Your posture is terrible!" He jerked Eddy by the shoulders, almost making him drop the violin. "Stand straight boy!"

Eddy played through the piece, a composition passed down from his family. His father stayed silent throughout the performance. However, this did not necessarily mean he was pleased -- it only meant he was saving his wrath for the end.

Sure enough, his father approached him, anger etched on his face. "There are people your age who are studying for school, and can play the violin flawlessly! And you can't even play a simple piece as a simple farmer's boy?!  I cannot support such a lazy, slothful son!" He slapped Eddy on the face. "You are not eating dinner tonight. And you will be staying in the house and practicing all night."
Instantly Eddy felt terrified. What about Brett?! Now that he had to skip dinner, there was no way he would be able to provide for his friend!

His father turned to leave. "Your time starts now."
Eddy lifted his bow, playing through the piece again. He continued to make an effort to make it sound flawless. For Brett, if nothing else.

Over and over again he played the piece. As the moon slowly rose higher up the sky and cast its yellow glow, he felt his fingertips grow raw, his hands cold and stiff from the night air. Completely exhausted by the long day of field work and unable to stand any longer, he sat on a chair, continuing to play. For a moment he stopped and began to zone out, struggling to keep his eyes open as the exhaustion washed over him.

He heard resounding footsteps approach. Quickly he sprung up. "What did I tell you about practicing?!" his father roared.

"To... to do it all night sir," Eddy answered.

Again his father slapped him in the face, and then hit him again on the shoulder. "You will continue practicing until sunrise. You will not have breakfast, and I expect you to work out in the fields until noon without a break." His voice dropped low. "I cannot believe I have condoned such a lazy, worthless son." He looked Eddy square in the eye. "Do you understand me?"

Eddy struggled to hold back the tears. He tried to open his mouth, but an invisible force kept him from it.

"Speak to me!" his father roared.

Eddy tried with all his strength to just let out a little squeak, but he remained silent.

His father grabbed him by the shoulders, pinning him roughly against the chair he had sat on. "If you do not speak, boy, I will slit your throat open."
Eddy felt his heart beat rapidly as he trembled in terror, but still he was unable to speak.

His father drew out the knife. It glistened in the moonlight as he pressed it against Eddy's throat. "You shall speak to me, or I will kill you."
As Eddy remained uncontrollably silent, he felt the blade slowly dig into his throat.

Eddy jumped up, a cold sweat gathered across his chest and back. Involuntarily he let out a cry of terror, desperately sitting up and attempting to escape the enveloping threat. Brett immediately woke up, gently touching Eddy on the shoulder. "Eddy, what happened?"
Eddy jumped away from the touch. "He-he, this knife, I-"
"Eddy, it's okay," Brett sat up, carefully reaching out to give him a hug. "It's gonna be alright."
After taking a few moments to return to normal, Eddy trembled a little as he whispered, "Thank you Brett.... I really don't know what I'd do without you."

For a moment Brett didn't respond. But then he spoke again. "Eddy, why is it always knives?"
Eddy began whimpering again. "I-I know this sounds silly but... when I was younger he threatened to slit my throat open after I didn't practice enough and he had this knife in his hand at the moment and... it just stuck. I know in my mind he'd never actually do it but it just... I dunno."

Brett nodded as he let Eddy lean on him. "I understand. Your father was a heartless person Eddy. But you're safe now... you will never see him again."
Eddy put his head on Brett's shoulder. "I'm so glad you got me out of there, even if I didn't want it at first."
Brett smiled a little as he tightened his embrace. "I'm glad too."