I sat on the satin mahogany piano bench cushioned with vintage brown leather. Opening the case of the piano, I lightly lifted the red fabric that protected the keys from the impurities of the world. After folding the long, wide ribbon of fleece, I placed it delicately on the side of the music stand above a stack of classical piano books. I grinned at the gold-stained logo labeled, "Yamaha," delighted by the privilege to own such a marvelous instrument. I brushed the keys three times and began to play. The piece was Prelude in E-Minor by Frederic Chopin. The tune that cascaded from the brass strings filled the room, as if measures of music note silhouettes drifted in the air. The moments like these, I thought to myself, I feel the rest of life stop and wait for me to catch on. The instant the tips of my dexterous fingers feel the touch of a polished ivorite key, it's as if the world altogether pauses to listen. It's the way you feel when you're doing something you really enjoy, or something you're just naturally talented in. I played the final chord of the Prelude, singing the top note of the chord in right hand, and balancing the low E-octave in left hand. I stepped on the pedal on the furthest right and held my foot there until the note silenced itself. When I released my step, the doorbell rang seconds after.
"Open up, babe! It's freezing out here!" Elly's perky, high-pitched voice rang from outside.
"Coming!" I yelled.
I rose from my seat, blanketed the keys with the red fabric, shut the case, and pushed the bench beneath the piano before its pedals. I ran my hand over the top of the piano and around the side as I walked to the front door. It played like a dream.
*beep beep beep!*
The sensor from above the garage door sounded when I opened the front. My house was armed with an alarm system that got annoying a month after we got it installed. There was this one time when my brother came to visit from California (he's there for college), and he returned from a night out with his guys. It was about 2 in the morning and he unlocked the door, unaware that the alarm was turned on. He went into panic mode and woke everyone up. My sister's a light sleeper so she was the first to realize that a potential clown stalker was downstairs. Ended up just being my brother. She turned off the alarm for him before the system called the cops, as my brother didn't know the code. I've hated the damn thing ever since then. But I guess it's also nice to have... just in case some delivery person decides to go all Criminal Minds on me when I order a pizza or something. Better be safe than sorry.
"Hey, Ells! Get inside!" I exclaimed as I watched my breath go white out of my mouth from the cold.
"Don't mind if I do!" She said, rubbing her hands together and holding them up to her lips to blow on them. She stepped onto the mat in front of the coat closet. She knew mom's house keeping rules by heart:
1. Get your shoes off before you step foot into my house!
2. Don't leave random clothes or stuff out where I can see it. That's what bedrooms are for!
3. Clean up after yourself. I'm not your maid!
... and a whole bunch of other stuff I still struggle to remember myself.
My parents loved Elly. She just had a lovable nature that drew everyone to her. She was like... a goddess or something. Beautiful, smart, wise, kind, confident, and friendly.
We walked back to the living room where my piano stayed in the corner and a black leather sofa sat at the other end of the room. We sat on the sofa and wrapped ourselves in fluffy plush blankets, in hopes of reaching normal body temperature. Right now, we were stone cold from the 2 degree weather outside. Damn Chicago and its bipolar weather mood swings. Chicago has its own version of PMS. Lately, she's been doin' pretty well with keeping the temp in the high 30s. Then the cramps kicked in I guess, and she decided to start raining. After that, she got crazy cravings and worser cramps, so she felt it was time to throw in some snow, hail, and some degrees below negative too. Oh yeah, Chicago. She's splendid.
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An Hour Ahead
Teen FictionCasey was a typical 16 year old girl living in the heart of Chicago. Her life was plain and bland until she met a boy. A boy online. His name was Alex. He seemed perfect for her, until she learned that he was miles away from her, residing in Canada...
