Crimson Keys

Clair de Lune

It's time. I start to open the knife but then I remember, I have a different tool for this night. When this night began to become a plan for the future, I began using what I learned from anatomy and biology classes to make a plan. I study the composition of the wrist, the location of the arteries, tendons, and veins, and traced out my exact path many times. I researched tools and preparations to make it as quick and painless as possible. With the correct path and the right pressure, it should take around ten minutes and then I'm free.

I open my sheet music to Claire de Lune, the last piece that I will have ever mastered. The piece that took five years of work and determination. The piece that filled me with such purpose and meaning. It gave me a goal and a reason to keep moving. Now that our dance for dominance is over, I am happy but I am also empty once again. As I flip through the beautiful pages of notes, I see the instrument of my oblivion. The sharp and slender vehicle that will finally let me rest in peace. I pull out the straight edge and look at the line drawn on my upper arm. Vertical along my forearm, careful not the damage any tendons or muscles, one long movement on my right arm followed by one on my left. I look at the music in front of me and, with a deep breath, glide the blade across my arms. I'm ready.

I drop the razor and sit for a moment, letting my body become aware of what I have done. After a deep breath and then begin the piece.

I start slowly as I feel the warmth run down my arms onto the keys. With the little movement from the beginning of the piece, the river runs steadily. As soon as my hands begin to cross, though, and I travel up and down the length of the instrument, the beautiful black and white keys slowly change into a crimson speckled scene. Slowly, the monochromatic picture morphs as a new color is now thrown into the dance. The song's intensity increases and the volume rises as to prepare me for the coming measures.

I pause for a split second after the first quite arpeggios before I fully immerse myself in the movement of the piece. I remember my friends, my family, my music professor, all the people who have shown me nothing but love. I smile to myself, hoping they'll forgive me and hoping that they'll move on. I am not trying to be selfish, although I know I am. I never want to hurt those that I love but they are strong. I know they will be alright.

As the arpeggios slow, I remember my first love. We were so stupid but we had so much fun. I remember our first date. He was so nervous as he came up to me before class during our sophomore year. The bell had just rung and he grabbed me before I had the chance to leave for class. When he asked for a date, I immediately said yes and threw my arms around him. That Saturday, he took me to a local park where he had set up a little picnic. We sat and talked for hours as we ate the home-cooked food that he had packed. Before the night was over, he stood and reached for my hand. I took his and stood, following him to a swing just a few feet from where we were sitting. He had me sit on the swing and then began to push me back and forth before taking a seat on the swing next to me. We laughed and swung higher and higher, racing and joking, losing ourselves in the other's company. No night ever surpassed that one within the five years since.

My fingers begin to slide on the keys, it has been about four minutes and the song is almost over. I played a bit harder and more passionately than I thought I could, causing the blood to rush quicker than planned. I smile as my vision begins to blur. Thankfully I do not need to look at the sheet music to tell my fingers where they must travel next. I am starting to get cold as my hands cross their final few times. The last few notes ring out as the room becomes dark. I let my hands fall once I finish the piece, happy to have left the world with one last performance. As my head becomes light and my eyelids become heavy, I grab my sheet music and turn to lay on the piano bench. I hug the beautiful book to my chest and take one final breath before an arm falls to the side.

And with that, I say goodbye