The door slammed behind him.

He trashed around in the room.

bookshelves were overturned, desk light hanging.

clothes all over the bed and sheets tangled.

The curtains were trashed up and the cupboards open.

Heaving slightly, Chen strode angrily towards the only thing untouched.

His Violin.

He threw the case on to the bed, ripping it open.

He hesitantly took the violin out of the case.

In the bright moonlight, the violin looked brown and old.

He took it and rested it slightly on his left shoulder.

He tucked his chin on top of it and started playing.

Chen had tried so hard to forget, to cope.

But that was impossible.

The object he most loved at first was now the object he hated.

Something taboo.

Never to be opened again.

He had wondered, every night.

Why? Why did it have to be him?

No one wanted to be like this. No one.

It didn't seem fair.

Why had that car came.

It was obviously a red light.

It was supposed to his night. Chen's night.

Chen's playing increased in speed.

His fingers were no longer gentle, graceful.

They were aggresive. They were showing emotion.

The music he played was fast, frustrating, confusing.

The music was hideous.

And then it stopped. Chen stopped.

And then he screamed and threw the violin on the ground.

He banged it, with his fist, his legs.

Tears were running free by now.

He kept on crushing the violin, every single piece of the violin.

Then, tired, he went to sleep.

Falling on to his bed.

He didn't bother to clean the mess up.

Because, he knew, he knew.

The next day, It would all be the same again.

Everything tucked back like that same last day again.

His violin at the bottom of the desk.

Because no one wanted to see it.

Because no one wanted to see the thing that had managed to kill him.

Something that involuntaarily lead to his death.

Not even Chen.

{ Ninjanyancat }