The night was humid and dark, the sun had long since descended to its resting place. She took in a deep breath, then let it out as an audible sigh as she ascended the concrete stairs to the second floor. Emptiness, that is what she felt. Emptines pervaded by weariness. In a moment, she reached the top of the stars and opened the door. A stray thought entered her mind reminding her of all she was missing: time with friends, fun, or simply time alone in the quiet. With the opening of the door came a blend of notes all sounding at once. Music from a violin drifted from one direction, from another came the voice of a tenor. This was her lot, she knew, to practice until she got it right, until she was good enough. There it was again, the Enemy's open invitation, and once again he took it. "You'll never be good enough," he whispered. She agreed complacently, yet as she walked down the long hallway looking for an empty room something inide of her fought back. Somewhere in the depth of her soul she knew she could do it, she knew she could be better, but was she willing to make the sacrifice? Was she willing to lay down her life in service to the gift her Father had bestowed upon her. She knew that she had no choice, for her heart yeared to open the case and make music once again. Her heart quickened with anticipation as she tightened her bow and rubbed the hair gently against the glowing amber stone of rosin. She tenderly slid the shoulder rest in place and breathed yet another heavy sigh. This time it would be better, she knew, for that was the essence of practicing. With each moment, each hour spent the music became sweeter. As she lifted the violin to her shoulder it suddently became invisible, it's form drifting into hers to creat a oneness that can not be described, but surely can be felt. As her bow touched the strings and she began to recreate the harmony of Bach the oneness was heard by any and all wandering ears that happened to be nearby. This was her time, she knew. The darkness in her soul gradually began to fade as the light permeated her very being. She knew where the light came from. It was the same light that created the music, created her life. As her sound blended with the hundred others making music that night she began to know her purpose: to worship her creator with the fullness of her being and to bring light into a world of darkness. If the music could touch her soul surely she could give that gift to others. This was her purpose and she must fulfill it or her life would be like a score without the notes: empty.