This is a short story that I just had to write. I got this idea from my own life, and my own musicality. Music is what I live for, and piano is what got me started. No, this is not a true story, but it does closely resemble a situation I was in. I hope you like it, and if you don't then it's your loss. Please leave comments! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ever since I was a little girl, maybe 5 or 6, I have played piano. It was my dream to play. Whenever my older sister would hit a new note, I would be mesmerized. I longed to learn the magic of it. Then, that day when I finally got my chance, I knew that no one could stop me. First I was playing Three Blind Mice, and the next thing you know, I was playing Sonatina in C Major. My fingers flew up and down the keys as each note blended together to make a wonderful sound. All 88 keys working together along with my fingers to make a song. My dream was coming true, right before my eyes. It was all possible because of my amazing piano teacher, Ms. Nancy. She was like a second mother to me. She not only helped me achieve my dream, but she also cared about me, and loved me. My sister and I would go over to her house for lessons, and she would have a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies sitting out for us. She was my role model. I wanted to be just like her. At the age of eight I won my first competition. I played a piece called Bevy of Quail. Out of everyone in the competition I won first place. My family was so proud of me, but Ms. Nancy was the proudest of all. Se helped me to never give up when I struggled. That happened when I was in level one. Through out the years, I moved up all the way to level 8. I participated in competitions all year round, such as AIM, and local competitions. I not only had to play songs, but learn theory as well. It was very difficult, but I managed to get along, because it was what I loved doing. By the time I got to sixth grade, I had been playing for 7 years, and I was still going strong. I was going into middle school at this point, and my mother suggested that I should quit lessons because of my busy schedule. She said that since I knew how to read music I didn't need lessons anymore. Even though she said that I couldn't bring myself to quit. No more lessons meant no more Ms. Nancy. She helped me improve every single week, no matter what. I could never give up piano lessons, of you paid me. I continued lessons through all of sixth grade, and then we took a brake for the summer, as we always do. I kept practicing the new piece that Ms. Nancy had given me. I wanted to have it perfect, by the time we started in the fall again. Everything was going fine until that last week in June. My mother got an email from Ms. Nancy, regarding lessons in the fall. She had written that her mother was very ill, and she was going to be spending more time with her in her last year. Because of this she would not be giving lessons anymore. When I read that email, my heart broke. I couldn't go on without having Ms. Nancy to help me. My mother kept saying we would find other teachers, but I didn't listen. I needed Ms. Nancy. After the tragedy, I swore I would never play piano again. I would play one more song, and that would be the last. I took out the piece that I had been working on. It was a Rondo by Diebeli. I started to play softly, but I eventually grew louder. I played allegro, and then adagio. My fingers moved swiftly on the keys. This is what I was born to do. I flipped to the last page, and slowed down the tempo a bit, so it would last longer. A tear rolled down my cheek, as my finger hit the key, creating the last note. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know it's not my best writing, but it holds a special place in my heart, because I can relate to it. I greatly appreciate criticism, and suggestions. Thank you so much for reading this.