Story by Sora Fujiwara

The power of an ocarina is a mysterious thing. I knew it all too well. I knew the magic behind this marvelous instrument. It's calm tones made me peaceful even when I was filled with rage. It had a power over me and everyone who heard it. It's like this beautiful instrument controlled me and every emotion in my body. People loved hearing me play my ocarina, in fact they still do, but even after all this time has passed, I still cannot believe that this small instrument had such power, such grace. It's majestic tone swept through everyone, it danced around their bodies, their souls, bringing life to everyone. My ocarina held a special interest in one person's heart. This one person loved hearing my ocarina more than anything else. I think it healed her, you see this particular person had Autism. Now you couldn't tell she ever had Autism, my ocarina had powers, or so I liked to believe. It's healing magic made a difference. Why this ocarina had such a power I never understood, but perhaps you could understand more if I explained it to you.

 

My story begins when I was a young girl. My sister had been born a few years earlier and something strange had started happening. It was like everything she was learning was being undone, like some evil force was rewinding time. My sister was regressing as the doctors liked to call it. She had been potty trained, had known how to feed herself, but now she doesn't know anything. It was like she had turned back into a baby, trapped inside of a toddler's body. I loved my sister more than anything, but now things were different. While she continued to regress, we continued to find a way to help my baby sister. We tried many different tactics, none of which seemed to help very much. We were beginning to lose hope, we thought my beautiful baby sister would stay like this forever. As my baby sister continued to grow, I did as well. I matured, grew into a responsible teenager, always taking care of my little sister.

 

My sister, although she was precious to me, loved to annoy me as well, even though she didn't mean to. She destroyed my things, ruined my homework, and drove me absolutely insane sometimes. I still loved my baby sister. It was for my 16th birthday that I received this gift, my beautiful ocarina. This ocarina had been in my family for generations, and belonged to my grandmother. When I opened it, I could feel this immense power resonating from the instrument itself. It was like I was destined to have it. I loved my ocarina, and I was never away from it. It was a part of me I could never let go, and I felt lost without it.

 

Months and months of practicing this beautiful instrument paid off in a different way than expected. When I played my ocarina for my family, they loved it, but one particular person in my family loved it more than anything; my baby sister. She had never responded to anything before, but this time, this one time that I played my ocarina, her eyes lit up as she watched me play, mesmerized by the sound emitting from the instrument. Months went on, and as I continued to play the ocarina, my baby sister started getting better. Doctors and therapists noticed a vast improvement. They thought it was a miracle, and at first I did too, that was, until something happened.

 

My grandmother had been getting on in age, and had not been in the best of health. Shortly after my 17th birthday, my grandmother had passed on. As my grandmother was the one who gave me my ocarina, I couldn't even look at it for months, and in those short few months of not playing the ocarina, my baby sister regressed once more. The doctors were bewildered at what had happened. My baby sister had made such progress, and now that progress disappeared. My anger, my sorrow, all the pain I felt from my grandmother's death and my sister's regression built up in my system. My parents, worried for my health sent me to a therapist. While I wasn't too fond of sharing my feelings with complete strangers, the therapy helped. It made me accept my grandmother's death, and made me have the will to pick up the ocarina once more.

 

Playing the ocarina was different now, it wasn't just for my amusement, it was to help release those emotions that built up inside of me. Playing the ocarina calmed me, it had this power over me to keep me from going absolutely insane. The ocarina not only helped me, but when I started to play it once more, my sister started to respond again. My sister loved hearing me play, and whenever she was upset I would play the ocarina for her. Soon she started talking, and was once more potty trained. I knew now that it wasn't an ordinary miracle that helped my sister along with myself, the ocarina was a healer, it helped us both through difficult times. When I turned 18, my sister that I knew was gone, and the sister that had been healed by the power of my ocarina had emerged. She had been fully recovered, she beat the odds and she beat Autism. I understood then that my ocarina had powers, or at least that's what I liked to believe. Even now that we are both grown up, we still believe this instrument had the amazing ability to heal. Who knows, maybe it really is magic.

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