There was a small creaking of rusted hinges. The wind whistled in the gap of the slightly open door, but she pushed through it and made her way onto the roof. Her hair whipped around, and she tucked the loose strands behind her ears, the hairs of her bow caressing her head as she did. Finally, there was no one around. No more mournful hymns, no more extended family telling her how sorry they were. For the first time all day, she could be alone, and she could finally do what she'd been waiting to do for so long.

A large, grey radiator stood off to the side, and she bounded gracefully on top of it, keeping her instrument above her head as she did so. From the high height she could see the tops of the houses below, as well as shops in the distance. The horizon was hers, and she gently lifted the violin and tucked it under her chin. Resting it on her shoulder, she sighed as she recalled the tune. She'd been practicing it almost non-stop for a couple of months now, not counting the on-and-off years she'd spent rehearsing it with her brother. Even now, the pain had dulled a little, but the thought of his memory still stung. 

"I wasn't fast enough," she whispered to the wind, "I didn't memorize it in time." She shut her eyes tightly and fought back the tears she'd already cried. "I was going to--" She stopped herself short. The memory of her first concert, and what her brother told her then. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and raised her bow. She blinked back the tears and took a deep, cleansing breath.

She started with a slow, almost somber melody, repetitive in nature, but meant to allure. The melody started to build, and as she closed her eyes, she began to lean into it. It gave way to a grand, sweeping tune, and the world around her seemed to sing along. A group of birds fluttered their wings as they flew overhead, the wind swelled with the music, and the radiator ticked in time. There was a fierce crescendo, and she raised her bow in the air as she let the note hang in the air for a few bars. Then quietly, she played the last line, a wistful variation on the opening melody, her fingers gliding across the neck of the violin before she played one final note.