Living A Lie

Elizabeth’s P.O.V

I’ve always been the perfect daughter.

All my life I’ve been a straight ‘A’ honor student. I’ve never cursed out loud. I am the perfect little doll that my parents have made and taught me to be. I would never want to disappoint them. I always want them to love and cherish me. But sometimes I feel like who they love. . . is not the real me. I know I’m not the perfect. No one is. And if someone says they are, then they’re lying.

And it’s because of the thoughts that have been torturing my mind, that I’ve been doing things I wouldn’t normally do. Lately, I’ve been more private than I usually am. Not just with my parents but with my friends too. Well, if you want to call them my friends. My opinions have changed on this matter too.

And it’s all because of that song I heard.

I’ve never listened to any kind of rock music before, plus my parents would never let me. And I wasn’t about to disobey them by doing so.

I didn’t even mean to listen to the song. I was just minding my own business when a couple of boys walked into the music room. I was practicing my violin. I needed to perfect the piece I was doing, if not, I wasn’t leaving until I had.

The boys were rowdy when they walked in. I had turned around to see four in total. I didn’t want to get distracted so I continued practicing and messed up for the hundredth time that evening. The frustration was starting to boil in my stomach. I’m normally a calm person but that day was just not my day. So after messing up again, I huffed and gently put my violin on the stand before stomping my feet and sitting down the chair behind me since I had been standing the whole time.

It was then that I heard the music the boys were playing on their speaker. At first I was so insulted but the type of music they were playing that I choked and turned around to yell at them. I didn’t get to. The voice of the artist singing had caught me in a trance. His voice was soothing and soon I felt the tension run out of me like opening a tap.

It took me a moment to notice but I had began to tap my foot to the rhythm of the song. And the lyrics. . .

I’d never heard truer words spoken.

Surprisingly I wasn’t annoyed by the loudness of the guitar or drums. I actually enjoyed it. It was so different from the calming classical music that I would normally listen to. You see, that music spoke to my inner calm but this. . .

Rock music spoke to the emotions inside me that just wanted to explode.

Once the song had ended, I could only stare at my violin. And I remember so clearly and vividly the feeling of wanted to throw away my beloved violin and grab a guitar and start learning how to play. I got up and picked up my violin and just. . . stared. It was then that one of the boys called out to me. I turned around and looked at the boy who was tallish. Correction, everyone is taller than me.

He wasn’t the one who stood out the most to me but he was still alternative compared to me. He had his black hair perfectly gelled back and was wearing a long sleeve white shirt with black pants. A silver chain hanged from on side of his pants and I wouldn’t have noticed it but whenever he moved it clinged letting me know it was there. The boys had turned off they’re music and we’re all looking at me now.

“Hey, sorry! Didn’t notice there was anyone else in here. We can turn off the music if it’s bothering you.” In a rush I stepped forward and let out a breathless “No!” I put my violin down and shook my head.

“It’s alright you can keep playing your music. It’s no bother.” I told them. The boy didn’t seem convinced.

“You sure? ’Cause it’s not a problem-”

“It’s fine.” I said and smiled. I turned my back to them and organized my music sheet. I did this on purpose so that I would have time to hear what they were going to play next. They goofed off for a bit before another song started playing. This one had a slower beat to it but the lyrics of this song touched me even more than the last one did. For a while I swayed to the song and forgot about everything I was suppose to be doing. But it was just that. Just for a while. Because then I caught the sight of my violin and remembered that I was suppose to be practicing.

And not only that but guilt started to set in. What would my parents say? And not only that but I had just committed a sin. . .right? How could something that seems so harmless be so bad? But it was still something I tried very hard not to do. I was so horrified by this that I packed up all my stuff in rush and ran out the music room. I’m sure the boys looked at me like I was mental but I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the fact that I had just listened to rock music, one of the many things I had learned was wrong and that I shouldn’t do, and I liked it. I liked it a lot.

I ran a bunch that day. Who knew that running all the way home could make you feel so sore?

I regretted running all the way home the next morning. My legs felt like jello. But at least I hadn’t cried. If I did, then my parents would have surely noticed something was wrong and I was the child that would never lie to their parents. I also wasn’t the child that hide things from my parents either. This is why they trusted me so much. Because they knew their perfect daughter wouldn’t do anything that was against the rules or theirs.

So keeping a secret, even one as tiny as listening to rock music, was hard. There were plenty of times where I just wanted to burst out and say it and get the punishment I deserved. But the there were times I was so scared about their reactions that I just locked myself in my room and played the violin until I calmed down.

And it wasn’t just my parents I was keeping this from. It was my friends too. Granted they have always had stronger opinions then me, it just felt like I really couldn’t talk to them. They were the type of friends that would tell on your parents if you did something wrong. So I had to learn how to hide it. How to hide my emotions and my secret. I practiced it. Practiced pushing the feeling down, keeping my face neutral. Not giving anything away until even I was fooled myself.

But like I said, I’m not perfect. And my mask wasn’t perfect either. There are cracks that I can’t fix. Emotions that take me by surprise. And I always slip no matter what.

I always slip when the boys come to the music room during my lessons. Sometimes I can ignore them but if I hear the passion that goes into playing guitar start to vibrate throughout the room, I’ll be compiled to look. And that’s when my mask disappears.

It’s when the boys are playing in the back of my class.