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The Thing I Carry
In the midst of the chaos, the music calmed me and took me to another place. I became aware of every lyric spoken, every note in the chorus, and every synchronizing harmony blasting from the tiny speakers. The melody distracted me from the tense exchanges above my head. While some resort to harmful activities to divert the turmoil of everyday life, like a bottle of whiskey or a needle to the vein, my addiction only makes me stronger. It provides euphoria and oblivion without any consequences. Music is truly a path you will never find yourself lost on.
One stormy Saturday evening, I relaxed at home with my two siblings in front of the television, a Disney movie on pause as my sister prepared a snack for us to share. Our parents had departed hours earlier to attend a concert and were not expected home for a few hours more. In the midst of the film, I began to hear the front door handle violently rattling. I pieced together that it couldn’t have been anyone else other than my parents, and at once the mood changed from warm and nostalgic to ominous and menacing. I suspected that their evening had not ended on a high note.
Crash, slam, bang! Cupboard doors clanged against one another, belongings like pictures and wallets and phones were hurled clear across the room, and vehement voices echoed off the walls that seemed to be closing in on us as time persisted. My parent’s eyes were fiery pits, licking flames at anyone who tried to subdue them. They were ravenous dogs held back by a flimsy, metal chain, and no one dared to get close to them in fear of being attacked. Hatred hung like fresh linens on a clothesline across the room, insults flung around as if they had no meaning, and it was terrifying how routine this had become. My brother and sister stood in the corner shaking, dodging the bullets that were their own parent’s remarks, clutching each other’s hand. It was time for us to escape; I couldn’t let them witness this altercation become something even more.
I coaxed the two of them down a soft, carpeted set of sand colored stairs. We proceeded into the murky shadows until we reached the basement, the wails still audible in the distance. After my sister and brother were taken care of, I plugged in my safety blanket, my avenue to another universe into my shattered phone and clicked the glowing, scarlet music application. I tilted my head back and found myself flying with the beat of the drums. The soldiers I heard crumbling, the shots I heard ringing, and the cannons booming above me didn’t mean a thing. The music had fought and conquered the war for me.
Everyone needs a way to temporarily elude the fastballs life throws at you. It’s true when people tell you ignorance is bliss; it paralyzes your thought and opens your mind to the meaningful things in life. Maybe something you carry weighs you down and makes it challenging to think positively, but appreciating even the most minuscule things in your life will only make your journey easier and can distract those lingering thoughts. Music is my addiction and my passion, it is my wings, and they carry me away to happiness.
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As an assignment in English, we had to write a letter explaining something we carry, physical or emotional, and describe how it affected our lives and who we are as individuals.