The sea gently lops at the golden beach, its ripples foaming slightly as it drifts in and out. It is calm, the high sun makes it brilliant blue that shimmers and ripples. The sand is golden and smooth, no stone or pebble since Brighton Beach considers as quite clean place. It is used to be full in summer time, when you can spot sunbathers been dotted over the vast beach, but they soon left when the heat season ended and the chilly fall comes to revisit this side of the world for the twentieth time since I saw the light in this city.

I sigh. After a week of raining cats and dogs, portraying the worst mental state I'm experiencing so far, the sun decides to peek on us, and hopefully the gloomy days will come to an end and vanish like the dark grey clouds by the penetrating warm, sun rays. Even though I can't help it. I'm not really interested to look at this beautiful scenery. My eyes aren't focused on anything in particular as my mind is else where.

I sit on the high cliff overlooking the beach, with my knees drawn up to my chest. It has passed a week since the auction but I'm still grieving the loss, sinking deeper into depression. Mostly blaming myself for my incapability to find some way to bring my violin back; not to mention how badly I missed our home.

I heard once the sea breeze heals wounds, so I come here everyday to this beach and sit on this cliff as it is the only place that allows me to grieve without being poisoned with everyone's advice for letting go, like if they all become spiritualists at once!😑

While my eyes are staring at the horizon, I let the gentle chilly breeze lifts some whisp of my hair while tickling and kissing gently my neck, as a way to cure and console me.

Betweens losing myself and in try to find a solution to move on, I can still hear the enchanting beautiful high notes on the E string and the dark and rich resonance on the lower strings. The most gorgeous sounds I have ever heard haunting me, like it is calling on me with every ripple drifting in and out. Sweet, powerful, refined, light, dark and penetrating. Its charm and effect while playing felt like producing colors and nuances that I have enjoyed a lot listening to.

I may sound weak which is mostly true. I'm not strong like my mother or else I wouldn't be here in this place hiding my face only to not let her see how devastated I am, to not tire her with me or make her feel guilty by trusting her - now former - husband as she started the divorce proceedings. Furthermore, we are both living at Mrs Melissa's house, so I prefer to not be in sight to not infect them with my depression or give them the impression of being unwanted guest that brings the negative impact to the house. Although she never let us feel unwanted or unwelcomed. She always tries to make us feel home contrariwise. I'm grateful she is standing by my mom in this harsh period, though.

Mom has resumed her work at highschool, dealing with her loss and her heartbreak on her own way by drowning herself in her work. Jessy as well always tries to get me over the hump, to get on with my life, reminiscing how her dad left one day with no previous warning , and how her and her mom overcome their struggles over and over , as the moral of her stories is the learning to move on. But none of these has to deal with my own disaster. She can move on and start over as she is quite a skillful at various of things , in opposite to her I'm nothing without my violin. I can literally do nothing. I'm bad at academics, I can't hold anything without causing troubles if not disasters. What can I say? At this point I'm helpless , gradually I become quite a loner, not able to hold conversations with people I live with. Even avoiding calls and e-mails from my friends, most from Juh; my cellist friend I have met with at the beginning of my first year in Vienna conservatory, and used to live with as roommate ever since till I came here for spring break. Darn! I wish I never returned and stayed for touring Europe with her instead. I know I'm selfish but I'm helpless too. The only solace I found was walking out the house and roam Melbourne aimlessly the whole day then return till late of the evening where I slam my body onto Jessy's bed that I share with, surrunding to sleep as a way to escape my reality.

Never thought losing a simple, small fiddle would drive me to this restless state. I even cannot express what pain it gives me to think that won't be able to touch it again. Some would find it ridiculous, some would say it's only an instrument and I could buy another one. But no. It's not like any instrument, it's more than that and I doubt it could be someone out there who would understand my situation. Nevertheless, I cannot play on any other bowed stringed instruments, it's like having a blank , kind of block that effects the writers , but instead my hands freeze whenever I try to touch another instrument. No kidding, sometimes it feels like it's cursed, anyone who touch it for first time, won't be able to play on another, never again. In this meaning, I've tried not once, not twice but several times to play with Juh's Cello, but I failed miserably although she tried to lift my spirits; saying she can't play on violin either and that not everyone who play on stringed instrument can play on them all, adding that is not the musician who chooses the instrument but it is the instrument that chooses the musician. I cannot agree with less than that.

Speaking of the devil and the phone rings, once again it is Juh, with her silly face she made when she snapped the selfie to register it under her name on my phone book, flaunts on the screen. I debate with myself for long moments on whether to answer the phone or not. I really am not up to being the considerate listener, I still cannot find my voice to speak either. So I put the phone on the ground next to me and just keep on looking at the screen till the ringing stops and the call is marked as a missed one. I know she will be disappointed, even feels upset but I will talk to her when I feel I am able to open up and speak.

My eyes glimpse once more at the screen to catch the time on the black bar up in the corner pointing at close six in the evening. Wow! I haven't really noticed how long I have been spending time sitting here, but the strings in my ass indicate it as long hours. However, it is the cool sea breeze of the early autumn evening that let me lose tracks on time, staring at the sun getting red and watching the soft glowing, colorful light from the blue sky sends back the reflected light of the sun rays from below the horizon. The reflection across the calm water surface draws a path right to me, so magnificent that I feel I could walk across the rainbow stream of reds, yellows and oranges and let it guide me to a peaceful place I have often imagined while playing with my violin. I even can hear the strings playing alongside with the soothing sound of waves, crashing slightly on the cliff performing the symphony of life while the flock of birds flying high in the wide, vast space along in the 'V' formation, tweeting from distance, flying for their journey to the north seeking for warmth and partner to build their nests with, together forming an enchanting orchestra, the mother nature orchestra.

My stomach growls but I can't force myself to eat. Hungry but at same time I don't feel like I want to eat. My appetite has reduced ever since I got to know about the mortgage's debt and eventually I lost it, surviving only on water, or eat too little but throw it up right after because of the heavy feeling on my stomach.

While losing myself staring at this enormous fireball melting into the horizon, my ears unintentionally been caught in a conversation between two men according to their voices; one sounds hyper, speaking and laughing loudly but familiar to me, while the other one has deep, sharp and a little bit husky I can feel through it the intimidating and the intense presence of his character even though, his voice is friendly and melodic, tickling my ears, making me believe in that old saying about ears love before eyes.

I don't mean to spy in them or overhear their talk, I can't prevent my ears to not hear them, it's all because of the owner of the deep voice, it's him who attracts my hearing, his voice is like a sweet symphony.

' I knew I would find you here!'

Exclaims the one with hyper voice after they greet each other.

I - until this moment - didn't feel the presence of somebody else sharing this view with me. I was too occupied with my own demons. The conversation goes on but I don't want to carry on with them. My phone rings again; this time it is from mom. I ignore her, not being able to move a finger. The wind brings the voices of the two men into my hearing again

' I heard you bought a local cable company?'

The anonymous of the deep voice speaks out

' Yeah, I'm planning to try my hand in film marketing, the deal is pretty much closed.'

The one replies.

Under my breath I'm cursing both of them for coming and ruining the calmness of the place. I feel irritated to say the least. So I decide it's time to walk away, the darkness is nearly to fall as I'm going to be caught in the rush hour, and with my state I don't want to hear another lecture for disappearing the whole day, nevertheless my ass and my back muscles feel sort of numb and sore because of the tiny pebbles I sat on. I stand up, my legs hardly can carry me; horrible pain for not stretching out my muscles. I get my phone from the ground , sliding it inside my jeans pockets and flick the dust off me, wiping the last of my tears and my nose with the scarf I'm wearing and then I make my way, heading to the same path I came from. Through that, I couldn't dare to look at the two people leaning on the small wall behind the place I was moment ago in. I hear as I approach them, the owner of the deep voice goes silent after the other one has asked about a marriage or something like that, through his silence I feel like he is troubled with this topic. Well, after all everyone has their own story. Everyone has something troubles them to deal with and apparently, most prefer to come here and face the sea, like if they are sealing a deal with it, exchanging their deeps and their sorrows with every drifting wave, like giving the hope while washes away all the worries in return to bury it into the depths.

Dwelling in this thought prevents me to notice the running van coming towards me the moment I step in to cross the road, the sound of the horn startled me that I freeze in my spot, if there was not someone has pulled me out at last minute I would have been crashed like pancake under the car tires and would have become a history 😵.

'Are you alright?'

My face is pale, my breath is shallow and still can't muster the happenings but I manage to node, indicating a yes. I may forget to thank the stranger who saved me

'Are you sure you're feeling alright, you don't seem so.'

The guy asks while I'm still inside his hug after he pulls me to his chest

'I'm good. Thank you.'

I murmur out soon as I found my voice, pulling out his hug

'You look familiar to me --- '

he pauses for few seconds

'Aren't you the same girl from last week?'

He asks again. I look strangely at him. Finally I stare back at him, his eyes are mesmerizing light shade of green fit perfectly with his gorgeous face and his strong jaw lines, although blonde men are not my type at all. He is taller than me and has kind of athletic build with shoulder length golden hair tied up as pony tail , casual outfit, I'll be fair and say he would look just perfect in a garbage bag.

'Pardon me?'

I frown at him, what does he mean, if I - myself - forget what I have eaten this morning - well technically I haven't eaten anything - but this guy is talking about a week ago, how does he even remember me?! Maybe due to my outfit?! After all I'm wearing the same jacket from that day with same scarf and same boring bun tied my hair into it.

'Yeah it is you! If I'm not wrong - - you're the girl that was on the park ..'

I stare at him

'I found you lying there , passed out so I took you to my place, the girl who her properties were auctioned that day and lost her guitar in the process..'

He explains when he sees my blank expression

'A violin'

I correct , cutting him in his mid-speech

Great! Now all Australia knows about me!

I almost forget him to be frankly, but fate has brought him to me again to help me and refreshing my memory. He has taken a good care of me that day I runaway from home. When I was back to my conscious I found me in a strange, spacious room, all white and beige and mahogany furnished with luxurious and stylish furniture. Far than that I couldn't focus, my head was pounding and the feeling was even horrible, waking up to find it was not nightmare and our home and all what we owned have been gone for real.

The guy looked - back then - friendly and caring just like now, I can see the worry marrying his features. I draw a forced smile just to assure him

'Thank you for your hospitality that day, I didn't thank you enough '

I croack out, he smiles

'No worries! I'm always pleased to help.'

He replies full of politeness. We keep on staring at each other till it becomes awkward

'I have to go now. Thank you again.'

I greet him , shaking his hand after he reaches it out to me, then I start walking away , surprised yet calm and a bit sad by how life is really unexpected. A stranger - a total stranger- has helped me twice and seemed moved a little bit with what had happened with me last week, meanwhile the so called fiancé didn't tire himself to check out, nor his father did. How on earth they want me to keep faithful to a stupid promise my father had cut - probably when he had been drunk- while they didn't give a damn to my situation!