Short stories

Perspective

She looked all around the room and saw faces that mocked her every move. She read their disbelief and humor, plainly lit upon their features, dancing in their eyes. She tried to steady her breath, force her hands to no longer tremble in fear, and to sit down on the stool. Breathe.... Breathe.... 1...2...3.... Okay.... She turned away from the crowd and placed her hands on the piano. And began to play.
Her fingers glided over the keys with ease, the notes flowing with lavishing grace and elegance. Her fear began to fade away and the room became black and empty, leaving only her, in the spot light, with the piano. A small smile slowly began to turn at the corner of her somber lips.
Her fingers began to slow as the song ended and she played the final notes. She turned to stand and bow, and was greeted by the same tormenting faces as before. Her breath stopped short in her chest and she had to force herself to bow, the fear building back up, and waited for the worse to happen.
Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd. She let out a huge sigh and stood back up, her head held high. Those faces were never mocking, never in disbelief, but only twisted from their glory in her fear. Their eyes had smiles and anticipation, waiting for her to play her song. Waiting for her to play her heart.