Hey it’s Callie,  for my exhilirating reading project I chose to pick an object from the book and personify it. I chose the violin because it is obviously a very important object in the book. Here it is.

 

For so long I’ve been sitting in that closet with no one to play me and spiders crawling over me giving me chills, I was starting to forget what the outside world was like – the smell, the air, the people. But today all that changed, I was finally taken out of the closet! But the smell wasnt what it smelled like before – instead it smelled like burned flesh and singed hair, the air wasnt how I remembered it – but instead it was thick and it wasnt crisp and fresh, and the people – they didnt hold me anymore like I was something precious, but they held me by my neck and didnt care for me. Oh my god! I’ve been so busy telling you about the world that I forgot to tell you my name! Hello, I’m violin, and I’m here to be played. 

The human that was holding me was taking me somewhere, but where? We walked into a building that smelled even worse than where we were before! Where am I!? Then I was put into the hands of someone else, but they held me differently… they caressed me, they held onto me like they were holding onto life. Then I was back under a pillow – I heard talking – “Now, put it away and don’t even think of touching it until I tell you personally that it’s safe. Understood?” “Yes” (Midwood 17). Are they talking about me?

After a while I was taken out with the hands of the woman whose name I think is Alma because that’s what I heard them call her. She held me until she was ready, then, “the first long, tentative note probed the stillness of the descending. It cut itself short, hesitated, then suddenly gained force and unraveled in a crescendo of runs and, all at once, the very name – Auschwitz – had ceased to exist for it’s victims” (Midwood 18). Suddenly, I felt as if I was missing out on the world before this Alma came. She played me like she was’nt just playing for others, but was playing for herself, not in a selfish sort of way, not at all! But in a way that was like she was playing me as if it was the last thing she would ever play, like it came from deep within her heart. 

She played me every night and I somehow felt as if she was healing me by playing me and I was healing her. Tonight she played me again, but she played me differently, like she was now playing for different people, she held onto me as tightly as ever and didnt let go until the last note. After that wierd concert, I slept in a different place, not under a pillow but on the floor, and now Alma played me everyday, not just in the night but now when she played me, I heard other instruments in the background… Are we in an orchestra? 

We played another concert tonight, Alma did most of it by playing me but sometimes the rest of the orchestra joined, I was still getting used to being in an orchestra but it was fun. We went to play somewhere with a disgusting smell! “Along the long corridor, right on the stone floor, rows and rows of emaciated bodies lay, some still making an effort to move; some eerily still” (Midwood 65), we were in the infermary. When she played me here every once in a while someone touched me, like when they touched me, I put some more life back into them. We played alot of concerts over the time, and we also played in different places. Until one time we were playing somewhere I think is called “the ramp” and Alma went up to a man and she said: “I promise you that I shall make such an orchestra out of them, the main Auschwitz one wont rival it. Under my direct responsibility, of course. In case you arent satisfied with the quality of the music they produce…” Send me to the gas” (Midwood 86). And that was that, after the talk Alma had we used all the time we had to practice, and it was hard! 

We played at the big night and I think it went so well! We played beautifuly and the smell was just so amazing. Alma and the rest of the orchestra played like they were playing for life, well, I guess they were. If the man didn’t like what Alma played he would send her to “the gas”, I dont know what that is but I know it’s not good. I know it could mean I could lose Alma, and if I lost her, I wouldnt bear it. 

A girl named Violet played me, I guess she was practicing for the big night. Then Alma met someone Miklos I think, and oh am I happy she did! She played more passionately than before and now there was usually a beautiful piano melody in the background. She had so much fun with him and I had so much fun having the beautiful piano playing with me. One night I heard screaming, then crying, then Alma left, she didnt come back for days but when she did, she still couldnt really play me, something with her arm. When she played me again I was so happy! Miklos was gone for a few days and Alma was so sad! She played me but not like she did before when Miklos was here, then Miklos came back but Alma still wasnt back to normal. 

I heard Miklos: “I know what’s going on. They will kill all Hungarians” (Midwood 283). NO! They can’t kill Miklos! It will break Alma’s heart! She won’t be able to play. Now she was crying, sobbing, he can’t die! Then he started playing something on the piano; A haunting and sorrowful yet beautiful melody all at the same time, oh how I wish I could play along to that. “It was composed in hell, written by an agonized hand and a half-starved mind, and yet, how soft and lyrical the melody was, how hauntingly touching the tone” (Midwood 285). Alma calmed down but I could still feel the tension in the air… A few days after Miklos played, Alma left for a day, who knows where she went but when she came back she was a new person. I felt like she was happier, like there was more hope in her. 

I heard screaming from Alma, but it also came from outside, what was this? “Sofia, if he’s there, I will never forgive you” (Midwood 303). Who is Alma talking about? Is it Miklos? It can’t be! No! And again Alma was sobbing dripping tears everywhere. What will happen if he’s gone? Will Alma break? Will the orchestra fall apart? I’m gonna miss all those beautiful melodies always playing on the piano. Then there was a smell, it smealt like death. “Death, death everywhere. She was inhaling it, it stung her throat, her eyesmher very soul, obliterating everything in her, destroying the last defenses, turning blood into acid, Inside her chest, her heart was bleeding itself white” (Midwood 304).

It was official, Miklos was gone, Alma was broken, and everyone was sad.  Alma  didn’t get back to normal after that, so neither could I. The world was no fun anymore, and I felt as if Alma just wanted to leave but didn’t because of the orchestra. Then one day, Alma didn’t come, or the day after that, or after that. She was gone, and suddenly there was really no point in living anymore, I didn’t have Alma. But I was happy to know she left us with a smile on her face and that she ended up having the first memorial in the history of Auschwitz, unfortunately probably the last one. 

The End

I hope you enjoyed it, thank you.