Oh, woops didn't see that. Im sorry, I cant change it. I cant erase the color. Sorry!

Yeah, of course Booksy! It'll be done by the due date. How's the story coming? No pressure.

Nice work, everybody! Keep it up!

It starts off sad, but gets better!

She opened her eyes, but what was the point in getting out of bed? Life was misery, each day was dreary and tearful in its tiny corner of the universe. Why were people happy? It had been so long since she truly smiled. Sure, she faked it. Every single laugh for the past two years had no humor behind them. She was a straight-A student, she had soccer awards. But what for? Just for hiding herself. It was easy to hide behind a trophy, a certificate.

It was the hardest thing to drag herself out of bed. As she was alone, she allowed herself a few tears. Her mother was fresh in her mind, the woman she had loved most. The one she depended on. She thought about how she had died--a simple car accident. Nothing special. But her life had gone into ruins since then. Her father had gotten over it. And so she pretended, so she could avoid the therapists, the psychologists. No one needed to know about her suffering.

It was more than her uniform she put on, more than her hairstyle. Alone in her room, she had to put on that artificial smile. She had gotten good at it, so good that everyone thought she was a happy girl. Walking downstairs, she greeted her father, pretending to be cheerful, pretending to be well.

Her friends were almost as phony as her happiness. On the bus, they made small talk, chatted about little things, but she couldn’t concentrate. She missed her mother, her mother, she missed her mother so much. Her mother was gone, how could she talk about teachers and sports? She contributed, silly things about the upcoming test. But why should she care, other than to keep up her facade?

At school, she ran to the bathroom. There, she broke down in tears. What was the point? Life had no meaning. She couldn’t bring herself to feel joy. Just one hour of pain after the next.

But that day, something changed.

Her father had signed her up for cello lessons. She had pretended to be excited, but really, she had only agreed to seem like a good girl. She walked into the door to the cello teacher’s house. He sat down, put his cello in position, and started to play.

What happened next was beautiful. The music was like a healing potion put into liquid form. It was an escape from the pain. It was almost like her mother was calling her, telling her that everything would be alright.

Practicing music was her only escape. As soon as she put her bow to the strings, all her tears seemed to melt away as she channeled her sadness through the music.

Her instrument had become her place of refuge.

And little by little, things got better. She started smiling--smiling for real. She started to see the beauty of the sunshine, of the wind whispering through the trees.

Her life had a purpose. And that purpose was music.

Is no one else on here?

So sorry! Im here! Just havent been able to post anything lately. 

Anywho, I loved your story, just one thing, can she be taking singing lessons? It would go better with the drawing instead of cello lessons.  

Gared's disappeared! I don't have a writer anymore. Do I just post on my own?

She opened her eyes, but what was the point in getting out of bed? Life was misery, each day was dreary and tearful in its tiny corner of the universe. Why were people happy? It had been so long since she truly smiled. Sure, she faked it. Every single laugh for the past two years had no humor behind them. She was a straight-A student, she had soccer awards. But what for? Just for hiding herself. It was easy to hide behind a trophy, a certificate.

It was the hardest thing to drag herself out of bed. As she was alone, she allowed herself a few tears. Her mother was fresh in her mind, the woman she had loved most. The one she depended on. She thought about how she had died--a simple car accident. Nothing special. But her life had gone into ruins since then. Her father had gotten over it. And so she pretended, so she could avoid the therapists, the psychologists. No one needed to know about her suffering.

It was more than her uniform she put on, more than her hairstyle. Alone in her room, she had to put on that artificial smile. She had gotten good at it, so good that everyone thought she was a happy girl. Walking downstairs, she greeted her father, pretending to be cheerful, pretending to be well.

Her friends were almost as phony as her happiness. On the bus, they made small talk, chatted about little things, but she couldn’t concentrate. She missed her mother, her mother, she missed her mother so much. Her mother was gone, how could she talk about teachers and sports? She contributed, silly things about the upcoming test. But why should she care, other than to keep up her facade?

At school, she ran to the bathroom. There, she broke down in tears. What was the point? Life had no meaning. She couldn’t bring herself to feel joy. Just one hour of pain after the next.

But that day, something changed.

Her father had signed her up for singing lessons. She had pretended to be excited, but really, she had only agreed to seem like a good girl. For some reason, her father had chosen a teacher from Tibet, who didn’t know much English. She walked into the door to the voice teacher’s house. He greeted her, then started to sing.

What happened next was beautiful. The music was like a healing potion put into liquid form. It was an escape from the pain. It was almost like her mother was calling her, telling her that everything would be alright.

Singing those strange songs were her only escape. As soon as she opened her mouth, all her tears seemed to melt away as she channeled her sadness through the music.

Her tutor’s home had become her place of refuge.

And little by little, things got better. She started smiling--smiling for real. She started to see the beauty of the sunshine, of the wind whispering through the trees.

Her life had a purpose. And that purpose was music.

Wow, Mei. That was....really good.

September....how's the story?!