(Heheh, another week-long break between posts. Let's hope it was a justified one. It's time for the startling truth behind Kat, isn't it? Just afraid I won't be able to live up to the hype, lol. Btw, I think these little preambles are quite neat, compared to lumping them all at once in a Writer's Block.)
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for our very own Katrina Williams!" boomed Anthony, emcee for the day.
Meekly a waif-like girl stepped onstage, constantly brushing back her messy long hair. She nodded slightly at the beaming parents and proceeded to sit herself down at the piano. As her fingers stroked out the first few notes of Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker, Katrina felt an uplifting joy creep through her. She wasn't the showy sort, but suddenly she loved being in front of all those ogling eyes watching in awe her dainty fingers slide effortlessly up and down. She could work the piano like magic, and she knew it.
After a good twenty minutes which felt like five, she finished her last piece. The audience clapped loud and long, and suddenly she felt shy again. She mouthed "Thank you" and walked down the steps at the side, trying very hard not to look dumb doing so.
"Mom I'm back," Katrina called out, closing the door behind her. She'd gone home straight after her performance, not bothering to stay back for the stay back for the remainder of the carnival. It felt awkward anyway, seeing all her other school mates with their parents, and being subjected to "Hey, where's your mom?" a million times.
"You're back," Mrs. Williams walked out with a basket of laundry. "So how was your performance?"
"It was okay, I guess. The principal told me that the some of his friends are interested to get me to play at their parties."
Her mom smiled and sighed at the same time. "That's nice to hear." She put down the laundry and lit up a cigarette.
Katrina scowled. "Mom, you told me you would quit that. It's really bad for health."
"Bad for health?" she scoffed. "I'll tell you what's bad for health - not having food on the table. Your dad just called - business was bad. He won't be sending us money this month."
"But, mom! That was a court order! Isn't it against the law if he doesn't send us money?"
"So whaddaya expect me to - sue him?" she cracked. "Never marry a lawyer when you grow up, honey."
Katrina sighed; she knew her piano classes were a terrible burden on her mom's finances. Already they were in the red over last month's fees, and now her dad was saying he didn't have enough to give them this month. He'd probably splashed it all on his other wife, that jerk.