Exams never made me break out in a nervous sweat with tears threatening to ruin my already-trembling facade-but this one did． Even booking my piano exam reduced me to a blubbering mess of anxiety． I feel permanently scarred inside churches-no longer admiring their beauty because， over the yeas， I have received such terrible marks from examiners hiding behind the stained-glass partitions． Despite being 15-too old， too cool to be frightened-I remember trembling inside the bathroom stalls before my tests． I wished I never had to play in front of others． But this time， after booking my Level 8 Royal Conservatory of Music piano exam， I went back to my normal routine． A little practice here， a little practice there． And then it happened． My trusty， 10-year-old electric piano gave out． Middle C started to sound like an F-sharp and all other keys sounded like they were a fourth above their natural tone． Thankfully， my precious， boredom-saving buttons still worked． I could still change my piano's settings from "piano" to "harpsichord．" I admit， it was a lot of fun banging on my wacky keys． Each note boinged like the sound on children's TV shows when a character repeatedly runs into a wall． Goofiness aside， I had to get my act together． I hated practising but I really wanted a good mark． When I told my father what had happened to my piano， he only glared at me with disappointment， "When I was your age， I learned to be resourceful．" Hmm． I had a broken piano， an exam coming up in a few months and a father who refused to buy me a new piano because he wanted to teach me a "life lesson"． I finally came upon a decision： I'd practise at school． Going to a private school had to have its benefits， so I looked for a place to play． The school had many pianos but only a few in tune． Within a few days of searching， my piano books， my artistic best friend and I headed off to a music room at every available opportunity． I loved finding new pianos in hidden corners of the school and I laughed at the dusty old historic pianos． They really had character． I spent hours in those music rooms while my friend practised her art skills in sketching and drawing． She suffered through my annoying， repetitive scales while I looked over my shoulder once in a while and admired her work． Not only did I become a better musician， but I also managed to gain a few subpar skills as an art critic． As my exam drew close， all the music teachers knew to look for me in the piano rooms during recess， after school and late on Fridays． In anticipation of my assessment， one of my music teachers let me perform for her as a mini practice exam． To my surprise， she was greatly impressed． Within a few months I went from not caring about my playing to feeling actually， maybe， kind of proud of my work． And over countless hours spent in my favorite， soundproof music room， I discovered that behind the piano， I could become anyone． Talking to other people never came easy to me， but I was able to express myself through music． I became overjoyed． It was like I had developed a sixth sense， one that only musicians could understand． When I played， my worries about what others thought of me and how I viewed myself mergedto reveal who I really am． All my adolescent musings made me feel like I was in a cage， but music gave me the key． Sitting behind a piano and creating music combined the movement of my body and the inner workings of my heart． Music had never been the love of my life but that was changing． I loved the idea of being on a stage and creating something for others to enjoy and remember． Actually， it wasn't a something， but rather a feeling that the audience would carry outside into a world where music wasn't the only thing that people cared for． When the time came to play in front of an examiner， instead of fearing my judge， I feared nothing but being unable to represent all my hard work． All the anxiety I had about going up on stage dimmed， and when the lights went on， all I could think about was the marvelous journey I'd had to get here． Trilling the keys reminded me of when I'd spent nearly two hours alone in a music room， more content than I had been anywhere else． Playing the melody reminded me of the bittersweet music experiences of past years． Many days later， I received my mark． Not only did I earn a rarely mentioned "well done" and an 82 per cent， I had rewritten what music meant to me． Now whenever I get caught up in the daily struggle， I remember the hard work that it took to reach my goal． Whenever I feel discouraged， I never forget to look at the gleaming keys of my new upright piano． As my father always says， some lessons are just learned the hard way．（1）What made the author so stressful insides churches these years？___A． The religious atmosphere．B． The artistic performance．C． The horrible surroundings．D． Her colorful fantasy．（2）What can be inferred according to the underlined sentence in Para 6？___A． The author's family was too poor to afford a new piano．B． The father was quite angry about the author's bad behavior．C． The author showed great dissatisfaction about her father．D． The father wanted the author to address the problem independently．（3）Which of the following word has the closest meaning to the underlined word in Para 12？___A． mixedB． separatedC． interactedD． exploit（4）The author changed her attitude towards music mainly because___．A． Her good friend accompanied her to get though hard time．B． Her teachers treated her much more better than before．C． Her family supported her quite well．D． Her own understanding of musical value．（5）Which of the following indicates the change of the author's feelings？___A． Nervous -->disappointed -->angry -->calmB． Curious -->frustrated -->hopeful --> gratefulC． Frightened-->indifferent -->passionate-->proudD． Depressed -->satisfied -->disappointed -->peaceful（6）What might be the best title of this passage？___A． An Important Musical Test．B． A Hard but Enjoyable Life．C． The Key to HappinessD． My Favorite Piano．