My face reflects off the shiny black Yamaha, I place my hands in position gliding my fingers up and down the black and white keys. They feel cold, but smooth. I dare not to apply any pressure, afraid of the discordant noise that will soon follow. Staring into the keyboard I drift back to the time around my grade eight piano exam.

It was in December that my parents though we would move to America by July 2001. They requested that I've my final piano grade doen before we leave. My piano teacher agreed. It was scheduled that I'd have my exam in June.

Six months is not a long period of time. I had to memorize all the scales and techniques and three pieces. It wasn't impossible, epecially since I was only in tenth grade, when school was less hectic. Although i had plenty of spare time to...