It had been two weeks since my music teacher of 2 years, Mrs Andrews, had quit-stating she just couldn’t handle my father anymore. She wasn’t the first to quit, many of people had left my family’s mansion because of him. My father was an angry old man, and he made those around him angry. I wanted to leave too but feared I’d never make it on my own. At only 18 with no real life experience or talents beyond piano, and no college education yet, I had no real chance out in the world. Music was all I felt I had in the world, so when my father told me he hired a new teacher, I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait. I watched at the window for what felt like hours waiting for them to show up, and eventually they did-and it was not at all what I expected. It was a man, about 30 years old if I had to guess. He had jet black hair, and piercing blue eyes. He looked stern and serious. He wore a grey button up shirt with black pants. He looked more like a business man than any music teacher I had ever seen.