Daddy brought it home when I was in 9th grade. He still had belief that I could actually pick up something properly, after my failure in martial art and art. I quit them because of my awareness of our financial status and of course, my laziness. He didn’t give up on my music orientation. But once again, I did, when no songs have been recorded.
Dad was also the one that brought it away. My only comfort was that it might fall in a better hand who knows how to take care of it really well and make the best use of it.
Except for that, there’s this empty space now next to my bed where a memory and a dream used to occupy.