The Debut

[K-Bear]

Evie Daniels is performing in her first professional solo concert. But after many nightmares and a bad rehearsal she is nervous. Can she overcome her past and put on a good show and maybe gain some confidence? Or will her nerves and the nagging thought of a mistake or bad performance get the better of her?











Chapter 1 - The Dream
‘No…No…No!’ I thought. ‘That doesn’t sound right. What’s going on? That’s not Pastoral, OP.23 No.1 on Violin. It sounds horrible, screechy and out of tune.’ The theatre went silent as I tried to carry on playing. I’m sounding terrible.’ The silence soon transformed into an unbearably loud roar of “Boo’s” and “Hisses” coming from the audience. ‘No! This can’t be happening!’ I burst into tears and ran offstage. I then realised No-one was there, only darkness and silence. ‘Where had the staff gone?’ I thought. ‘More importantly where is my mum? She was here only a moment ago.’

“Hello?” I called.

No answer.

"Is anyone there?"

No answer.

“Mum?” The darkness was slowly engulfing me. “Is anyone there?” I was getting desperate. “MUM?” I shouted “ANYONE?” I then heard someone call my name. 

“Evie.” It said.

“Who's there?” I asked .

“Evie.” The voice said. It was closer this time.

“Who’s there?” I asked again.

“Evie.” Called the voice again. “Evie... Evie... Evie...”


Chapter 2 - The Morning
"Evie!"

I woke up startled. Mum was leaning over me. She seemed to have made an extra effort with how she looked today. With her short brown hair curled, and a black tight dress, to bring out her skinny size 10 frame, and with Make-up on to compliment her tanned skin and dark green eyes.

“Evie, the car is here you need to get up!” She said.

“Car?” I asked puzzled.

“Yes the car.” Mum said. “To take you to your concert!” she then left my room.

I gasped. ‘Concert!?’ I jumped up. I needed to get ready and fast.

I got changed into comfortable black jeans and lilac T-shirt. I looked at my reflection. I’m 5foot tall and clothing size 6 with shoulder length brown hair, Tanned skin and brown eyes. I never really liked the way I looked. Yes I’m a size 6 but to me I still see myself as fat when I look in the mirror because I don’t have a flat stomach, and have wanted one since I was very young. Being bullied about my body and height from primary school means I still have hardly any confidence in myself and no methods I’ve tried to change my appearance have ever worked.

'How will i look in my concert dress?' I thought.

I put on some make-up, grabbed my bags, Put on my converse and ran out of the door.

“Good Luck!” Mum called. “I’ll see you there later.”

“Thank you.” I called as I ran down the drive to the car.

“Miss Evie Daniels?” asked the driver. “Yes.” I replied as i struggled into the back seat of the car.

Chapter 3 - The Car
As the car pulled away I looked around at my home town. It was run down and most houses in need of repair but i liked it there. I was going to miss it. I was comfortable performing there. Now I have to perform to complete strangers who don't know a thing about me.

"How are you feeling, Miss?" asked the driver, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"I'm feeling nervous and please call me Evie." I said.

"Why are you so nervous, Evie?" asked the driver.

The rehearsal didn't go as well as I hoped." I replied...

 ....................................................................

The lights are flashing in the empty theatre. "Right Evie, start playing." Commands the sound man.

I start playing my violin. The sound is amazing in the big theatre. The space gives the piece a more atmospheric feel. I can't help but smile.

Suddenly all you can hear is a huge SNAP as one of my violin strings break. 'Oh no!' I think. Then all I can hear is a massive squeak as the microphone breaks. 'Can this get any worse?' I think. 'Please say it can-' My thoughts are interrupted by a piercing scream and a massive CRASH as a light falls down in the corner of the stage and catches fire. Thankfully away from me, but when the fire is put out I am struggling to hide how distraught i am and can't hold back the tears that come to my eyes.

.....................................................................

"Miss... we will be at the theatre soon." Said the driver interrupting my memory.

"I said call me Evie!" I muttered.

"I heard that the theatre is sold out for your performance tonight." Said the driver. "Good luck we are here now."

"No way!" i thought as i stepped out of the car and into the theatre.

Chapter 4 - On Stage

I walked on stage to applause from the audience and stood in the dim spotlight in the middle of the stage. As i looked at the audience I realised that the theatre was full with all of the seats taken...

.....................................................................

I hear the sweet music from Grandma playing her violin and watch her concentrate on playing...

I hear the same song in sadness at Grandma's funeral. I'm surrounded by people crying. I look at the flowers on her coffin which are in the shape of music notes in many colours...

.....................................................................

I got into position to play as the images of Grandma ran through my head. The rosy lights came up warming the stage, which reminded me of how Grandma brought light to the darkest of times with music. 'This is for you Grandma.' I thought as the audience quieted into silence waiting for me to play.

[DATo]

Excellent! I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. I love subtle hints in short stories which do not offer explanation but rather the suggestion of an explanation. There are several of these in your story which require us to fill in material: you constructed it quite well. You might include one last chapter title - the last paragraph - "The Curtain Opens". just a thought.

After reading this piece I would like to suggest a movie for you to see called The Red Violin. The entire movie is written in much the same manner as your short story. It leaves a lot of unanswered questions but the viewer can piece together the truth through the hints that the story provides.

I would really love to read more of you work. You are my kind of short story writer.