Life was a blessing, but the world was just cruel. Winter had made its entrance with its dazzling tears of snow; the warm embrace of the sun was replaced with the bitter frost. As wonderful the winter was to Anna's eyes, the winter embrace was unpleasant. Her fingertips were numb with cold, and she missed the warmth of the Summer.
She could see her breath mingle with the air as she breathed, the beauty of winter was that she could see her warmth. Despite the countless mistakes she had committed in life, she was still alive and breathing. It reminded her of her existence.
In the countryside, where the winter coloured everything it touched sheer white, the silence was fragile. A sweet melody fell upon her ears, the lustrous sounds of a violin playing in the distance. It was Anna's first-time hearing music in her small village.
It was comforting to hear the silence broken. For a while, she stood. Listening to the music, sweet yet bitter. Almost as if someone was playing the strings of their heart instead. It tugged at her heart, until her conscience finally relented. Listening carefully, she trudged along the footpath, closer and closer to her desired location.
The music climaxed with each step she took, until she felt as if she was face to face with the notes. It was strange. The empty shed in the forest, that once belonged to old Mr. Taylor was meant to be empty. How strange was it that someone was playing the violin inside the shed? Unnerving as it was, the music soothed her nerves.
Curiosity grabbed ahold of her as she found herself twisting the knob, and opening the door. There was silhouette of a woman, elegant and poised, her bow moving with grace across the violin strings. Long hair cascaded down to her back, and swayed with every beat.
Rhythmically her body moved. It was mesmerising. The shed was no longer a mere wooden shelter, it was the equivalent to a stage. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the silhouette disappeared merely seconds after it was seen. The music faded into the background. Only the deafening silence remained.
A dull pain made its way to Anna's heart, as old memories resurfaced. Mr. Taylor was her first foster parent, and he was such a lively man with a fond taste for music, especially the violin. His first love, Elizabeth Kimberly was a violinist in the small village. Anna wondered where she was, perhaps she had passed away too? Perhaps she had left after her husband's death?
Despite everything, her heart ached. Despite being sent away to another foster house, she had felt loved. She wanted to see them once more before leaving to study abroad. They left too early, and she had arrived too late. At least, she got to hear the music once again. Perhaps they did remember her, and were watching her from afar.