The Music's Keeper

da da da daaa da da da daaa...

The girl woke up in her small cottage on the old mattress with that tune playing in her head. She stretched and rolled off the bed. It was spring time, which meant her living space was, for a short season, comfortable. She grabbed her one and only dress from the floor, and did her hair in messy pigtails. The dress was far too small and tattered, and she didn't even own shoes. 

She stepped outside and smiled at the pink sky and the dewy grass between her toes. She lived far from her town in the middle of the meadow. Before the sun had completely risen and it was time for her to be at church, she started picking the pink blossoms from a nearby tree, and weaving them into her braids. The girl giggled, and started on her long journey into town. 

Hours later, the church bells rang. Men in top hats and women in gowns strolled out, arm in arm, silent and reserved on a Sunday afternoon. 

Except for the girl.

She exited the church house, skipping down the street, pigtails swinging behind her as she went. Unlike the rest of the town, she had no mother and she had no father, nor brother nor sister.

And that was just one thing that made her different.

The girl was hated for her uniqueness, so she kept to herself, but she didn't mind. She kept to herself, as she hopped along, purposefully dodging the cracks along the cobblestone. Women pulled strollers aside to let her pass, and men stopped their wives mid-stride so not to bump into her.

But she kept skipping, kept humming:

da da da daaa da da da daaa...

She kept to herself, as she hoped along, purposefully dodging the cracks along the cobblestone. Women pulled strollers aside to let her pass, and men stopped their wives mid-stride so not to bump into her.

But she kept skipping, kept humming:

da da da da daaa da da daaa...

Everyday this girl would look for her own adventure- whether it was exploring an old abandoned building, picking flowers from the prairie, or digging in the dirt on the side of the street.

Today, she decided she would explore the woods.

She ran past the stone buildings, and through the cold fog, holding her arms out as she dashed downhill further and further from the town and closer and closer to solitude.

And all at once there it was. At the end of the street stood towering trees that loomed hundreds of feet above her. A curtain of fog hung so low it covered the top of the trees. For a split second, even she contemplated not entering the dark forest, but she decided to go in, a smile on her face, unable to contain her excitement for what she might find inside.

She climbed over fallen logs and ducked beneath low-hanging vines. The woods were green and lush, with few openings allowing sunshine in. It was dark in all places except for one golden ray of sunshine that shone down on what she could only identify as a... piano.

"What do you remember?"

"Pardon?"

"What was the last thing you remember?" 

There was a boy about her age in front of her who had her pinned by the shoulders against a tree. He looked like he had just been crying, though she couldn't have guessed what he'd been upset about. She was in the woods, and behind the boy, she saw the piano. Truthfully, she remembered everything clearly except for where the boy came from. 

"Why would I tell you?"

"Please just tell me."

The boy had an accent, just like her own, and big brown eyes that made her trust him.