Violet can’t wait to start playing the piano
“Do you play the piano?” my friend asked me.
“No,” I replied.
Starting from when I was four, a lot of my kindergarten classmates started to play the piano. Of the thirteen students in my class, six played the piano, or at least an instrument. The seven people who didn’t play instruments included me.
I should play the piano too, I thought to myself every time they asked me. But every time, I would only nod and smile and listen to what they had to say. I’d seen lots of people play the piano on TV or at concerts. I knew how it worked. You pressed down on one of the black or white keys and it would make a sound. However, I had never tried it myself. But one day, everything changed.
That day, I was talking with one of my classmates, and Mom was standing nearby.
“Do you play the piano?” my classmate asked.
“No. I don’t,” I answered truthfully.
“Do you want to?” Mom asked me.
“Of course! May I?” I shouted in excitement. I imagined myself sitting in front of a piano lifting my hands, ready to play a song.
“Maybe. I’ll talk with Dad,” Mom replied, smiling.
And Dad agreed! I was so happy! The only thing I could think of was that I was going to play the piano.
The piano arrived after three weeks. Four men arrived, pulling the piano behind them.
“Sir, where do you want to put this?” they asked.
“There, next to the desk. Yes, there.” Dad pointed.
The piano was even bigger than I expected! It was twice the size of me, and who knew how much heavier! I touched the glossy lid and opened it. Beneath the lid, the black and white keys. According to Mom, there are 88 keys. I lightly touched one, and it made a tinkling sound. And I knew from that moment it would be staying with me for a long time. It would be my companion, my friend, and sometimes my torturer.