It was funny, to go for so long without something and then the second you gain it, you act like you have had it all your life.
It had not been too long since she received her grandmother's long forgotten hearing aids from her grandfather. It had been maybe a year ago. Two years since she had arrived in Peace Village to begin with. To anyone else, leaving your parents and birth village behind might have been scary. And to Astrid, in the beginning, it kind of was. She was always protected and babied by her mother and father because of her disability. So it leave that comfort into an unknown place was pretty terrifying. But at the same time, she did find it actually rather freeing. Her grandfather was not as strict as her parents had been, or at least her mother mostly. In fact her grandfather pretty much just left her to her own devices a lot of the time. Which was both good and bad. No one would ever forget the infamous butterfly incident... But at the same time this also left the girl with a ton of free time to do whatever she wanted when she wasn't at school. And what better way to spend your free time than on something you loved?
Astrid had taken so naturally to the beloved violin left behind by her grandmother. Take it more as an infatuation to the musical instrument. There was something about it that captured her full attention, kind of like she was bred to play the thing. Music was in her veins, after all. Her entire bloodline, aside from her mother, had been traveling musicians. Basically, even at a young age, she just knew she was born to play it just like all those who came before her.
Which is what she did.
She played her little heart out day after day, until her fingers blistered and bled.
Bandaged fingers gripped firmly onto the wooden bow, stroking it back and forth against the light strings of the instrument. A tune vibrated into existence. The tune itself was rather sorrowful, a bittersweet thing.
Blue optics shut once she found herself able to relax into the melody, allowing her arm to move by itself as she imagined the notes within her mind. The warm sunlight fed into her relaxation, along with the cooling breeze sweeping through the small garden that slightly tussled with braided silver hair. It was pretty much the only place she could practice, seeing as how inside the house was too noisy and playing randomly about the town wasn't the best when she was still insecure about her playing. Not that her playing was bad at all, in fact she could probably surpass most musicians much older than her. But to Astrid herself, it never felt like she was good enough to be listened to. Not that she was complaining. In fact the small garden was very beautiful, kept that way by the help of their next door neighbor. It was away from people, and it was very pretty... But in a sense, whenever she played back here, there was a tingling sense of loneliness. In fact, it wasn't just whenever she played did she feel lonely. It was pretty much a constant in her life. Moving from a different village, being slightly weaker then other children, her anger issues, her disability. The other children didn't really bother with her much. She didn't even have anyone she could call a friend. She had her grandfather, the next door neighbor that sometimes came around, and her stuffed animals. But that was pretty much it. She was rather social, but when no one bothered to be social with her back, it was rather hard to stay that way...
Her loneliness, in a way, made its way into her playing. Anyone with sensitive enough ears could probably hear it. That is, if anyone bothered to even listen.
There is a difference between listening, and really listening. People listened, but they never really listened.
It was sad. But to Astrid, she was at least happy to be able to express her feelings through such things in the first place.
It had not been too long since she received her grandmother's long forgotten hearing aids from her grandfather. It had been maybe a year ago. Two years since she had arrived in Peace Village to begin with. To anyone else, leaving your parents and birth village behind might have been scary. And to Astrid, in the beginning, it kind of was. She was always protected and babied by her mother and father because of her disability. So it leave that comfort into an unknown place was pretty terrifying. But at the same time, she did find it actually rather freeing. Her grandfather was not as strict as her parents had been, or at least her mother mostly. In fact her grandfather pretty much just left her to her own devices a lot of the time. Which was both good and bad. No one would ever forget the infamous butterfly incident... But at the same time this also left the girl with a ton of free time to do whatever she wanted when she wasn't at school. And what better way to spend your free time than on something you loved?
Astrid had taken so naturally to the beloved violin left behind by her grandmother. Take it more as an infatuation to the musical instrument. There was something about it that captured her full attention, kind of like she was bred to play the thing. Music was in her veins, after all. Her entire bloodline, aside from her mother, had been traveling musicians. Basically, even at a young age, she just knew she was born to play it just like all those who came before her.
Which is what she did.
She played her little heart out day after day, until her fingers blistered and bled.
Bandaged fingers gripped firmly onto the wooden bow, stroking it back and forth against the light strings of the instrument. A tune vibrated into existence. The tune itself was rather sorrowful, a bittersweet thing.
Blue optics shut once she found herself able to relax into the melody, allowing her arm to move by itself as she imagined the notes within her mind. The warm sunlight fed into her relaxation, along with the cooling breeze sweeping through the small garden that slightly tussled with braided silver hair. It was pretty much the only place she could practice, seeing as how inside the house was too noisy and playing randomly about the town wasn't the best when she was still insecure about her playing. Not that her playing was bad at all, in fact she could probably surpass most musicians much older than her. But to Astrid herself, it never felt like she was good enough to be listened to. Not that she was complaining. In fact the small garden was very beautiful, kept that way by the help of their next door neighbor. It was away from people, and it was very pretty... But in a sense, whenever she played back here, there was a tingling sense of loneliness. In fact, it wasn't just whenever she played did she feel lonely. It was pretty much a constant in her life. Moving from a different village, being slightly weaker then other children, her anger issues, her disability. The other children didn't really bother with her much. She didn't even have anyone she could call a friend. She had her grandfather, the next door neighbor that sometimes came around, and her stuffed animals. But that was pretty much it. She was rather social, but when no one bothered to be social with her back, it was rather hard to stay that way...
Her loneliness, in a way, made its way into her playing. Anyone with sensitive enough ears could probably hear it. That is, if anyone bothered to even listen.
There is a difference between listening, and really listening. People listened, but they never really listened.
It was sad. But to Astrid, she was at least happy to be able to express her feelings through such things in the first place.
