A young girl, laying on her bed. Echoes resounded from below, the vibrations ringing in her ears. Mari knew that something incredibly minor must have happened: a lottery ticket not winning anything; a sports team her pa supported not winning; or her ma, still broken up about Sunny, even after four years. Mari had to endure this all day, every day, never leaving the house, and barely got a moment of peace because of it. She tossed aside her Captain Spaceboy and Princess Sweetheart! books and moved to cover her ears with her pillow, tossing off her bow.
It was at times like this she missed Sunny. His sweet, if not often expressionless face (you will never see again, her mind wandered), the care he played his violin with (it was all broken and imperfect, like him), and the recitals they practiced for before his final moments (you made him practice for, it reminded her. you tried to perfect it, you snapped at him, you pushed him, you let Hero take the blame, you, you, you).
There was a reason she hadn't touched her piano in four years.
Aside from Sunny, there was the rest of the little group. Kel, Basil, Aubrey, and of course, Hero. Kel was... entertaining, one moment running in circles after drinking orange juice mixed with coffee (didn't he call it Orange Joe?), the next scoring the winning shot in basketball. He still was a goofball, but spent way too much time trying to show off. She still did get snippets of gossip from outside. Basil loved gardening, and he and Sunny are... no, were most likely in love. They were both shy boys, and Basil still was even to this day. Aubrey, the only other girl in the group, was sweet and girly, but had a strong sense of justice. Mari wondered how she became such a delinquent then. And then, there was Hero.
Oh, Hero.
How he loved, and still loves him.
He was always sticking up for everybody, and loved cooking. His real name was Harry, but gained the nickname after eating 10 straight hero sandwiches (it fit his personality, she noted). They loved each other, so much, that he was willing to take the blame for her dear older brother's death.
Everything was better when I still played the piano, she thought.
Retreating into her memories again, Mari decided it was time to take action once again. Leaving her room for the first time in weeks, or maybe longer, she made the decision to go into the other room, where the grand piano was. She opened the lid and sat down, but did not touch the keys, as if waiting for a sign. Almost as if on cue, a familiar violin melody began to play in her head. Sunny's part of the duet they made up, the one they practiced for, the one she killed over.
Then, after roughly 15 seconds of memories flooding back, she began to play, and in that instant, a new world formed in her head.
A world where peace reigned over all, where bunnies and sprouts frolicked in forests, for hours at a time, where odd people lived. A broken-hearted teenage space captain, a cruel princess, Pluto for some reason. And there were its eternal protectors. A lass with a bright lavender bow, with emotion no longer controlling her, a young lady who never turned to darkness, a brave hero who never took the blame, a hyper child with boundless energy and naivety, a kid with flowers in his hair, and a boy who never died.
Then the violin stopped, like her late brother's life, and reality came crashing down.
She kept playing, but it didn't feel right.
But for a moment, everything was perfect.
Mari reminded herself to play again tomorrow.
