Beautiful, lilting music comes alive in the practice room. My strings vibrate as her bow moves across me in rapid successive strokes. She sways and raises my scroll as the music consumes us. I would hum along if I had a mouth. But I don’t. But then again, I don’t really mind, not as long as I get to make music with Master. 

She continues to play on me, and the entire world vanishes. It is only me, and Master. Violin, and violinist. 

Harmonious vibrations surround us in the small room, it would feel suffocating if I had nerves to feel it with. Music bounces along the walls only to come back to Master’s ears. I hope she’s enjoying this as much as I am. I prefer to practice at home, but it’s nice to have a change of scenery from time to time. 

The melody halts abruptly, and I jolt awake from my trance. What? Why’d she stop? I can sense as Master gently places me back down on the case. NO! Let’s keep practicing!

But I don’t have a mouth. So Master can’t hear my pleas. Master turns to hug her friend and they speak as if I’m not in the room. 

“How are you still practicing?! School ended more than an hour ago!” Master’s friend asks. 

“I’m working on my solo, it has to be perfect,” Master replies, “My violin’s bridge keeps moving though, it's so annoying. I can’t wait to get a new violin soon. I almost saved up enough…”

Master’s voice fades away into a dull buzz in the back of my mind. And suddenly I’m alone in the world. There’s no music. No one to play me! No one to wipe my strings clean! No one to tune me! There is no Master. 

This can’t be. New violin? I’m the only good violin. Who does she want to replace me with? Not Alex. It can’t be Alex. It can’t be Potato either. No one else is worthy of Master! I am the only one she makes amazing music with! I have to show her that. I will prove that I am perfect for her. 

“Wanna go to Chick-fil-A with me?” Master’s friend asks. 

“Yes!” Master closes her orchestra binder and takes off my shoulder rest before I can stop her. No! Don’t go! Master quickly straps me into my case and puts my bow away. Let’s practice some more! You can go to Chick fil-A later! She zips up the case and I’m left in darkness. I can hear the door click shut as Master leaves. She doesn’t even say goodbye. 

I would cry if I had eyes. 

When Master comes back half an hour later, her music is open to the solo we were working on before. The lights are on, I’m on top of my case, tuned and ready to make music. 

Master looks around suspiciously. Her eyes land on me, but then she shakes her head. 

“It’s just a violin, it can’t move around and turn on lights,” She mutters and I bristle. 

Just a violin!? I’ll forgive her for saying that if she practices some more--

“Wow, you unpacked fast,” Master’s friend comes in and says. 

“It was like this when I came in…” Master says, “Do you think that someone thought this was their violin?”

“Maybe,” master’s friend shrugs. 

“I’m gonna pack up now and go home. See you on Monday!” 

“See you!”

No! Let’s practice! But Master takes off my shoulder rest and wipes my strings clean before putting me back in my case. 

I try again at home. 

After Master is done with her homework she comes into the study room and there I am, waiting on top of my case. My bow is rosined, strings in tune, music on the stand. All that is missing is Master. She looks at me, brows knit in surprise. 

“Mom! Did you unpack my violin for me?” Master calls out. 

“No!” Her mom replies.

“Weird,” Master says under her breath. “Uh, I’m gonna eat and maybe practice later!” 

“That’s fine!” Her mom says. 

What? I wonder. Why? But then she’s gone. And I find myself wishing that I had a mouth. 

Master doesn’t practice me all weekend. She barely even touches me while packing up. Is she trying to preserve my pristine condition so we can ace her solo? Most likely. Master does like to be careful with me. 

I am excited when Master takes me to school. We’ll finally get to practice!

But I am utterly disappointed when Master asks her friend if she can use her violin. 

“Sure, why though?” Master’s friend asks. 

“Uh, well, my bridge is really starting to be a problem,” Master says. 

If I had a heart, it would’ve broken just now. My bridge can’t be that bad, can it? She’s never complained about it before. And how would she know? She hasn’t played me all weekend. 

I stay in my case all. Day. Long. 

This continues for the entire week. Master takes me home everyday (even though she won’t practice me), but when I unpack myself to help her, she quickly packs me back up. 

It’s like she can’t even bear to look at me. 

Is this her way of saying goodbye? Is she still getting a new violin? Don’t we have a bond? Had. 

We had a bond. 

Now I’m a violin, about to lose my violinist. 

It’s still a shock when Master goes to the violin shop. She brings me with her, though she still won’t play me. 

“Do you want to play your old one to compare?” Master’s dad asks her. 

“No, I already know how that one sounds,” Master says and my hopes plummet. 

This is really a nightmare come true. 

Time at the shop seems to last for an eternity. Master plays different violins and sees if she likes how they sound. Then she puts her favorites in a pile, while discarding the rest. Kind of like how she’s discarding me. 

She finally picks one. 

This is it. 

I will never see Master again. 

I will not be Master’s violin. 

How can I be a violin without a violinist?

I won’t be a violin. 

Not. 

Any. 

More. 

Old Master leaves me on the desk at the shop, she is trading me in. I can see her walking away with a new case in her hand. She’s smiling, but I can’t bring myself to be happy for her. Old Master doesn’t look back at me even once. She doesn’t even say goodbye. 

I desperately wish I had hands, so I could pull her back to me. Please don’t leave me. I yearn for a mouth, so I can scream for her to come back. I promise I’ll be better. I want eyes, so I can cry and let my sadness out. What’s wrong with me? I long for ears to hear her sniffle as she’s forced to leave me. Why wasn’t I good enough for you? I desire a heart, so I can feel it shatter inside of me. Why are you leaving me?

But I have none of these things, afterall, I am simply an item to be discarded. 

I am just a violin.