Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
And the fact that I haven’t seen him other than when he sneaks into my bed at night has me rattled.
If things were normal in this house, I’d be staying with him, but since he told me he was going to use his key to visit me when he could and not to open the door for anyone, I know things are bad out there.
Seeing as I have no place to go until the manor is deemed safe again, I guess I better make the most of it. Focusing on the present moment, I take a deep breath and am about to take out my cello when the door opens.
There are only two people with the key, Gideon and the maid.
When the door creeps open, and unfortunately, the maid steps in, I deflate.
She brings in a tray of food, and on top of the tray is a long-stemmed red rose and a note. I smile, taking the tray from her.
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need?” she asks, her eyes not meeting mine.
“I’m fine. Thanks. You’re free to go.”
She inclines her head down before leaving.
I’m sad that it’s not him, but I don’t want her to see my emotions. Other than the one conversation when she warned me, she’s never spoken to me again. I don’t know her or know if I can trust her.
Firefly,
I miss you. Being away from you is torture. All I think about is you.
I’ll see you soon. x-G
Walking over to my bed, I fall back on it.
I miss him too, and I know, without a doubt, I’ve fallen for him.
He sparks a light inside me that I didn’t know I had.
Looking over at the cello case in the corner, I consider playing, but something else pops into my mind.
I remember the courage I felt when Gideon was touching me while I played, the way I felt like I could conquer the world.
And, for a moment, I did. I conquered my fears, and I can do that now.
Feeling brave, I look toward the shiny wood side table.
The computer.
Gideon loaned me a computer to keep myself busy, and he also suggested that I apply to Juilliard.
I can almost feel Gideon behind me still, but instead of touching me while I play, he’s cooing in my ear and telling me to be daring.
To go for my dreams.
That’s exactly what needs to be done.
“Big girl panties on, Sasha,” I say to myself out loud, and then a laugh bubbles up through my throat.
I turn my head in the direction of the smoke detector. To smoke, I think it deserves a nickname.
“Hey, Smoke. See what I’m doing?”
For all I know, I’m talking to myself, but hey, you never know, he might see me grabbing the computer.
“I’m applying to Juilliard.”
Obviously, he won’t answer, but a smile still spreads across my face as I imagine him sitting back in his office, video footage of me playing.
Granted, he could also be busy and not observing me, but knowing there is a possibility has me opening up the laptop and going to the application page for Juilliard.
I spend the next few minutes checking everything I need to submit.
The truth is, I know what I need. I’ve looked at this website and the requirements more times than I care to count, but I run down the list one more time.
Essay and instructional video are two things I can do from this room.
Next, I run through the questions.
Why have you chosen to become a musician, and what motivates you to continue to pursue music at the collegiate/professional level? Please also elaborate specifically on why you are applying to Juilliard and how conservatory training will support your future goals.
Looking back up to the smoke detector, I shake my head at the camera.
“This would be easier if you were here.” Then I giggle. “Oh, who am I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to get anything done if you were here.”
I grab the computer and take a seat at the desk that overlooks the grounds. The drapes are pulled back now, and as I sit in my chair, gazing out the window at a sunset that dyes the sky in vivid swaths of red and orange, I can feel the ideas swirling around inside me, eager to get out.
My gaze shifts down to the blank screen on the computer.
Still nothing.
I close my eyes. In my head, I can hear music, and with the world shut away, I pretend I’m the one playing the notes.
Ideas form.
They flutter to life the way that fireflies do when you release them from the glass jar.
I can’t seem to catch hold of any of them.
It’s ironic that’s the analogy that came to mind. Gideon, although not here, is always in my mind. I drum my fingers on the desk as I try to focus, but instead, all I can think of is how writing this essay feels like trying to weave a tapestry out of thin air.