Short Stories :P

{36} Listen | Oct 14-15, 2022

A/n: The school I go to wanted me to write some shit, so like these were more rushed and may be sucky (also these r the non-childfriendly versions of it, so yea) ENJOYYY!!!!

###########################

Italics is thoughts

###########################

TW: Mentions of death

###########################

Music filled my ears; the sweet sound of the piano, each note after the other, producing a glamorous melody that no other object could make. These sounds, note after note, can make a person feel glee, yet blue-- joyous, yet sorrowful; calm, yet hype. This beautiful instrument can tell stories. Stories that no word can make up. It's how I tell my story, though no one is ever there to listen.

My fingers touched the keys, feeling every single sad feeling rushing through me; every ounce of loneliness coming to the surface. I played, allowing all of the depressing memories to flash through my mind. And then, I pressed the last note; quiet and soft since the song ended. As I slowly fluttered my hazel eyes open, I heard slow applause emerge from the doorway.

I looked over there, locating a dark haired boy, steadily walking towards me as he clapped tauntingly; it was Jackson. "What are you doing here?" I snapped in a questioning tone, hatred laced in my voice, me immediately glancing away. "What are you doing here?" He retorted, sassily crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you think?" I then snarled, him rolling his eyes at my sarcasm.

I sighed, taking my hands off of the piano and setting them on my lap. "I-- I don't have a piano at home because my mom refuses to listen to me play, so I come here to practise." I stated. For a split second, I could see sadness mask his face, though it went back to neutral soon enough. "My parents can't afford the water bill... so I come here to shower." Jackson declared.

Silence fell upon us as sympathy for him clouded my brain. "Why-- why doesn't your mom allow you to play?" The dark haired boy quizzed, coming to sit next to me on the chair. "Uhm well--" I started saying, but paused, genuinely thinking about whether or not I should tell him; since we've hated each other for years. But then I thought-- what is there to lose?

"--My dad used to play instruments with me, and after he... died--" A small gasp sounded from Jackson. "--She couldn't stand hearing me play, since I reminded her of my dad too much." Sadness filled his dark brown eyes, though I looked away, not being able to bear the pity he was giving me; though I could still feel his sorrow-filled gaze even if my hazel eyes were staring at my lap.

"Anyways, I started playing piano here." I then murmured, grief filling my voice; though I quickly snapped out of it, saying, "I do usually do that alone, so-- you go do what you do, and let me practise." Jackson scoffed, rolling his eyes, before walking away; muttering a 'bye', then leaving, allowing me to continue practising.

—————————————

I sat in front of a piano, my fingers playing the keys as I produced yet another beautiful melody meant for the world to hear; and now they do. The spotlight was on me, the audience was silent; my eyes were shut as I let all of my feelings out onto this magnificent instrument, playing a magical song that included all of my sadness, all of my happiness-- all of my life.

And, as I played the last note, quiet and soft since the song had ended, the crowd emerged into loud clapping. I slowly stood from where I sat, turning around to face the front, striding forwards a few steps, then bowing.

Then, as I raised back into standing straight, my hazel eyes landed on a certain dark haired boy on his feet, a wide grin spread on his face as his dark brown eyes stared at me proudly. The sight of Jackson made my lips curve up ever so slightly.

Wow-- I thought --how did I get here? But then I remembered that to get an audience like this, I had to start somewhere, find one person who was willing to listen; just one. And I did, I found Jackson; he listened.

676 words

###########################

I do in fact play the piano, but no one really bothers to hear me play. I still haven't found a person who truly cares about the fact that I love playing music, but it doesn't hurt anyone to imagine, right? (Wrong, it hurts me very much haha.)