Narrative 2

Hi again. It’s me, of course. It seems like I have nothing better to do then talk to you lately, since Mommy’s always cooking and cleaning, and Daddy’s always working really late. I’m getting so excited because I’m getting so much better at playing the saxophone. I really love it. I hope Mommy is proud of me when I show her how hard I have been practicing. I know that Daddy always hoped for a boy that played football or baseball or something, I’ve heard him say that to Mom, but I feel like I just want to make him proud once, and this might just do it. Too bad he’s never home, so I’m not sure when I can play for him. I know I’m not great, but even listening to other people’s music gives me this feeling in my head like I just want to dance. I want to dance like a ballerina and spin around in circles. My first school talent show is coming up soon. I’m not sure if I should play my saxophone. It’s the one thing I feel comfortable with, but the other kids might laugh at me. They would say “what’s such a little girl doing with such a big instrument?” My friends all dance or play sports or shop a lot and like to look pretty. I use an elastic to keep my hair out of my face when I play, which is about all I do for style. They think I’m weird and different, and sometimes I think maybe they’re embarrassed to play with me, or even be seen with me. Is it bad to want new friends? Friends that understand me and like to play instruments and listen to music as much as I do? I feel like it would be mean to ditch my old friends just because they think I’m different. Then they might hate me even more. It’s like the only one that accepts me lately is my sax. It’s like my best friend. It makes me happy whenever it makes a sound. I can’t really say that about anyone or anything else. Usually when Daddy makes a sound it’s something I don’t want to hear. He always yells, so I just sit in my room and play until he stops. Maybe he should take more time off of work. I think that’s why he’s so upset all the time. He smells funny when he gets home too. Maybe his office is musty. I really wish I could play for him. Maybe if he let me play for him, it would make him happy too, and maybe he could feel how I feel. I know I’m just a little girl but I am old enough to know that I can’t just play saxophone forever. I know that dreams like those are for kids, just like how most boys in my class want to be professional athletes, but Daddy says they never will. I like to dream though, because I can’t imagine life without my instrument. Is it weird that I would choose to keep it over having a pet? Is it weird that I treat it like a pet? I’m not sure, and I don’t really care. It’s time for me to go to bed now. It’s Christmas Eve and Santa’s coming tonight. Maybe he’ll bring me a pretty case! I can’t wait. Goodnight! Love and Hugs, Sarah