Proving Them Wrong (Caitlin)

Aside from Mark using my valve oil without permission and using my clarinet cork grease as lip balm, I'd say it was a pretty good rehearsal. We got through sightreading Tokyo Teddy Bear without crashing and burning. I packed up my horn and headed towards to the Minecraft Symphony Orchestra concert. We were playing some contemporary pieces that composers likely invent as musical torture devices for said concert. My altissimo register is not my strength--and those pieces required lots of it.

So, I guess it's off to abuse my new reed. I changed it out before taking off because it mysteriously broke in my case. I didn't really like the way the new one felt on my lips, but I had to deal with it all the same. A few minor adjustments to my embouchure should make everything work. Such is the life of a performer, always changing things on the fly, finding out what works and what doesn't.
           "Hey, where's Steve?"
           "He needs an early night."
           "Knowing Steve, he'll probably be running naked and directionless through the woods screaming like a banshee and not sleeping." I tried not to laugh because my inhaler was running low. Leave it to Mark to come up with the most ridiculous things! Yes, Steve did frequently run through the woods directionless. He did so, however, fully clothed and not screaming unless necessary. He did not seem to have any desire to do that, though. After changing clothes in a nearby restaurant, we continued while attracting many stares.

We stopped in the room, taking out our instruments and parting to our different sections. I, however, felt this odd buzzing sensation in my head, like someone was incessantly texting my brain on vibrate. As annoying as it was, I kept on playing my scales. Eventually, after scales, I stopped to tell Sylvia about my predicament.
           "You should listen to your body. Don't play if you feel like you can't."
           "It's fine. My head just feels like a vibrating cell phone. I'll get used to it." After running through our music, I started smelling something odd in the air. It's probably creepers off in the distance or witch circles brewing poison.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground and my vision was slowly coming into focus. Who were these people? Why was I on the ground? After rubbing my eyes, I could see clearly again. Oh. I popped back into my seat and continued the rest of the piece.
            "I don't think you should play. You just...." Had a seizure, I know. It happens, but I won't let a silly thing like that impede my playing.
            "It's fine. It's happened before." But I didn't want it to happen onstage. The last thing I wanted was to ruin the performance for everyone by faceplanting into a music stand. A sick feeling crept up on me; I put down my water and inhaled sharply. Maybe I shouldn't play. "You know, you're right. I don't feel well."

Well, it wasn't my misfiring brain that was making me sick. I didn't eat anything besides half a piece of bread today. I was still scoping out venues. One was absolutely beautiful, but the terrain would make me fall on my face. Another was an open field. That meant I had nowhere to hide from the noise. The lack of bathrooms was an issue as well. Here I am planning for what should be the happiest day of my life and I can't even pick a setting.

Rumor had spread that Steve ran off to some random bakeries to order various cakes to assemble on site. That could be disastrous for a myriad of reasons. For one, they could all crumble or not match. At least he was supporting small businesses with this course of action. Steve, so thoughtful, so kind. How could he have been attracted to me in the first place? Thinking of all the times he rescued me from various situations, I looked back at my own actions. I've been nothing but a burden on his shoulders and, now that he truly needed me, I didn't face his dragon the way he faced mine. Instead, I was a coward, hiding from it instead of fighting.

A news broadcast earlier that day featured interviews with my students. Nathan called me "the most understanding and compassionate teacher a student can have." He was probably saying that to improve my image. Alice's mother told me that I gave my students false hope. Alice got into the Minecraft Youth Orchestra symphonic band. I gave her tips on how to practice and she used them. She played Hitorinbo Envy for the recital, a song I thought fit her.

Alex sang 2.75 and Pon Pon Pon. She wrote the English lyrics herself by looking at the subtitles. The two sides of her personality showed through her songs. Alex loves to have fun, but not as much as she loves the spotlight. She pursues it with a tenacity most people don't think her to have and conducts herself with an assured confidence that even the Mindcrack High School Choir lacked. The people who smile without question are often looked down upon as unintelligent, which Alex has disproved on a regular basis through her ability to perform.

Nathan played a classical horn piece, something slow and lyrical as opposed to Carmen who gravitated towards fast and technical pieces. It's her first year and Carmen already knows how to double tongue and play almost all of her major scales. Nathan speaks logically, yet he does not do so to coerce or intimidate others. He clarifies, condenses, and comforts with his sound mind. It is frequently that Nathan acts as a mediator and a teacher when I step out of the room. As easy as it is to forget people like him, that should not be done.

Carmen, on the other hand, is vigorous and persistent. On one occasion, I have hinted that she would not be able to learn a certain piece in time for the recital. In turn, she proved me wrong and it ended up being the better of her two individual songs. I saw an article titled "Eight Year Old Clarinetist Reaches New Musical Heights Despite Visual Impairment" regarding Carmen. People like her attract attention from the press. Despite this, however, Carmen never loses sight of her true talent and is always on the lookout for more challenges to tackle.

I packed my clarinet away and headed home. When I got home, Steve woke up. Feeling guilty about disturbing his sleep, I slipped into a nightgown and laid my head on a pillow. In response, he took me in close and held me tightly. I got the feeling that he knew I wouldn't sleep well tonight. The gesture brought tears to my eyes. Gently wiping them away, he wrapped me in the blankets and continued to hold me.

My sisters, especially Alisha, mocked me for believing in true love. "Rescue yourself because no one will," she often said. " I was told that I could never be liked, let alone loved.  I planted the crane in Steve's hand and he returned to me better than the man he was before. I almost reached over for a sword to leave marks in my flesh, but I decided against it. I turned in towards my lover and fell asleep knowing that I had proven a myriad of people wrong.