Life

"Life, is never fair."

I heard this phrase countless times throughout the many years I've spent on this earth.

I've never expected much anyways, but deep down I can say I've always held on to that last shred of hope. I didn't want to give up on this world but time and time again my hope was thrashed into the mud.

Fate always has a way to step on your dreams and your ambitions, but never giving up for what you believe in, your values, your aspirations and your hope; that's what I believe it truly means to be human.

My life always seemed to be a bit of a blur, but at this moment, I seem to remember it all quite clearly.

I was born in a small town in Canada, with two loving parents. They were the strongest pillar in my life for my younger years.

My father was a strong military man that was strict but cared for me deeply. Always encouraging me to try new things and patiently teaching me what was right and wrong.

My mother was a baker, she was delicate and kind to all. She never was strict with me and always taught me to be kind. She was from Peru and met my father while he was stationed there when they were young.

I loved them both dearly, and I wished to spend a long, long time with them, but alas, life is never fair.

When I was 9 years old my father was in Africa for a mission in distributing aid to the victims of militia warfare. Mother and I would hear from him every weekend until one day we never received his call.

It turned out that the militia raided the hospital my father was stationed at during the night. They slaughtered the patients and people that were taking shelter there after loosing their homes.

The military fought back and were eventually successful in driving them away, but not without casualties. My father was among the 13 men and women of Canada that lost their lives that night. They sacrificed themselves until reinforcements came from the camp not far away.

They valiantly held back the militia as they protected the room filled with children and elderly behind them, or at least, that's what we were told.

I remember that morning clearly, the moment my mother heard the officers explanation she fell to her knees as she covered her face and sobbed quietly.

I, on the other hand, froze. My mind went blank as a single thought repeated in my mind, 'Why?' I couldn't understand at that time why my father had to go and do such dangerous things.

I would never hear his stern but calming voice, encouraging me and pushing me forward. I would never feel his rough and large hands as they warmed me while he carried me, and I would never get to show him how much I had grown since the last time I saw him.

At first, I was sad and grieving, but not long after I was angry and full of rage. I couldn't accept the fact that he was gone so easily. I was only ten at the time but I was a lonely child.

I was never able to properly make friends or communicate with my peers. I kept to myself and read books or practiced the many activities that my father had introduced to me in the past.

This incident pushed me further and further away from the people near me. Alienating my self from the world as I wallowed in rage and sadness.

My mother recovered quickly, but I know now that it was not because she wanted to but because she had to. After I closed up my emotions from the world she still worked hard to provide for me and make sure I had all that I needed.

We received money from the government and from my father's life insurance. My mother put most of it towards our house so we could always have a home at the very least.

With the money that was left over, my mother used it to open a small bakery. Life flew by but I was the same angry child I was before. My mother worked hard all by herself as she ran that bakery alone and provided for the both of us.

One day in my first year of high school, I walked by a room after school and became rooted in place as I heard a sad melody reach my ears. It was a soft melancholy piece I had never heard before, I didn't even know what instrument made such a beautiful yet desolate sound.

I held my breath as I closed my eyes so to not miss a single note. Slowly, I began to see a picture in my mind. A vast and calm dark blue sea shrouded in darkness. The starless pitch black sky encompassing the world and a single dark silhouette in the middle of the ocean.

My heart felt strangled as the music played on. A slow yet agonizing tune danced around deep notes that made one shudder. It felt as if I was alone but at the same time I was right beside that dark silhouette playing this music.

At first, the song was neither slow or fast, however, as it came to the final 30 seconds the song slowed down but no longer felt as gut-wrenching as earlier. The moon suddenly apeared in my mind, shining only on us two.

The light was gentle and caressed us as if it was trying to speak to us. It was saying it understood, it wanted to heal me and show me it was alright. Before I realized it, the tears were flowing down my cheeks in an unending stream.

My closed up heart was now wide open for all to see, it was neither sad nor angry anymore, it was thankful. I had finally found something that expressed my emotions. Something that helped me understand myself and the world a little better.

Without thinking I opened my eyes and ran towards the room's door. I needed to see and find out who was playing! I needed to find out what instrument made that music!

I barged into the room with the tears still rolling down my face and became stunned. In the empty classroom there was only a single girl holding onto what seemed to be a violin.

She had large round glasses and straight black hair. She wasn't very tall from what I could tell even though she was sitting down. The sun's rays shone brightly on her as she gazed out the window. Her looks were average but in this moment I thought that she was truly beautiful.

She didn't hear me come in, or rather, she was entirely focused on the distance outside that she didn't realize I had entered.

"Um, excuse me?" I meekly spoke up.

She slowly turned to me and our eyes finally met for the first time. Those pitch black eyes were dull and lifeless but it seemed her eyes were full of tears that refused to fall as she spoke up coldly and with an utter lack of emotions, "What?"

I froze as I asked "what's the name of that song…?"

"Adagio, sonata no. 1 in g minor, by Bach," She said instantly.

I thought on what she said as I burned it into my memory, "C..can you teach me how to play it?" I asked.

My heart began to pound as I didn't want to think on the option of being rejected. Suddenly, she spoke up after she paused for a couple of seconds, which felt like an eternity.

"Sure."

Finally, life returned to my eyes as I began to hope for the future once again.