Musical Sketches ✔️

1| My Song

Past Micheal's POV

"You've been playing piano for ten years, Micheal. You really can't play a piece as simple as this with more energy? Can't you play with just a little more feeling?"

"It's not a simple piece, Mr. Sokolov," I stated, "The majority of pianists can't even attempt the jumps in this piece."

"But you're not the majority of pianists!" he exclaimed, "You're a child prodigy."

I was at home, sitting with my piano teacher and listening to him bicker and moan about how I couldn't do anything right, like always. I had been playing piano since I was three years old. Mr. Sokolov was my fifth piano teacher, the rest had quit because they thought I didn't take piano seriously enough or that I was too bratty.

"Right," I sarcastically commenced, "I'll play with more energy! I'll play so lively that you'll forget that this is a classical song!"

"Don't give me that attitude," Mr. Sokolov barked, "Do you want to be one of the best or the best of the best?"

"Neither," I stated, "I just want to live a normal life. I don't want to play piano, I'm tired of living someone else's dream."

Mr. Sokolov sighed as he crossed his arms, "Why can't you just like playing the piano? You could become so much more than you are right now but you refuse to become more!"

My body ached and my mind spun, "Can't we take a quick break? I've been playing the piano for hours."

"Every time your fingers leave the piano, your talent goes bye bye!" He said as he waved his hand in the air, "Now, I want you to play with your soul. I want you to play with a purpose."

My fingers met the piano and played the piece La Campanella, a piece arranged by Franz Liszt. It was the piece I would play at Lilian Hall, a place that only the best could play.

I was going to be the best of the best despite my hatred towards the piano. I wanted to be something. If I was going to be a stupid piano boy, I was going to be the stupid piano boy.

"Micheal!" Hannah yelled as she ran down the stairs, "Did you break all of the pencils again! How am I supposed to do my homework?"

I stopped playing and my teacher swung his head to look at her. Hannah, why do you always arrive at the worst time. I thought as I pursed my lips. Mr. Sokolov wasn't afraid to yell at people and I just knew that Hannah was going to fight back.

But, of course, my teacher gave her a dirty look as he said, "Get back upstairs, you nuisance."

If my parents had heard that, they would've fired him on the spot. But, Mr. Sokolov was one of the best music teachers that any pianist could get and my parents made sure that he would never stop teaching me by bribing him with extra money. Though, I was going to make sure that he quit despite their efforts.

"Oh screw off," Hannah exclaimed, "I was talking to my brother, not a person that wasted their whole life studying clefs and whatnot. You've got my brother breaking pencils trying to study this music theory nonsense!"

A strange ringing filled my ears as they fought back and forth.

Hannah's voice went to an off key D, to a D flat, then an A flat, then a G. My life was a song. It was becoming a piece that I never wanted to compose in the first place.

I snapped back to reality and turned to face Hannah, "Sorry about the pencils, Hannah. I'll buy some more on my way to school tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes and went upstairs, mumbling to herself as she walked with an attitude.