Stradivarious is the name, Paganini is the game

When I wake up all I can see is the black of my blanket. I can feel the restraints around my neck, the supports around my curves and the soft velvet covering all of it. I feel trapped, my G string is loose and I feel E about to pop- well, I guess I'll be fixed in a few hours. My only friend in this prison is the friendly bow, but he is kept all locked up on the side; a wall of velvet separating us from any contact. He is my other half, the only object, other than a human hand, that makes me worth anything. Suddenly I feel my cage, and me along with it, is being lifted. Minutes later I feel the cold air of outside–I hope she doesn't leave me out here, my wood will contract and then I will crack, something I surely don't want to happen. I can hear a faint humming– could that be a car motor? Yes, for now I am on my way to school where I will get to see all my fellow instruments, including that bass that thinks he is superior because of his size. I jostle around in this cage as it is jerked from the car and stashed in yet another box, this one made of metal. Two hours later and I am moved into the music room. My case rests flat on a hard surface and I know I am about to be used. I don't really mind being used, as long as the person is clean, it means I get to work more. Those warm hands pull me out of the case and I finally see light and I am reunited with my partner the bow and shoulder rest! When bow and I touch we make beautiful sounds, it's a crime to keep us apart. My G is tuned and E is loosened while A and D are tweaked into place. Before me I see black on white and know that it's my time to shine as I go up on her shoulder and her fingers begin to run up and down my neck. I am a violin!