Monochrome beat (boyxboy)✔

Beat 11

Orlando's POV

I missed home. I missed my friends. I missed basketball. I missed running around chasing McKenzie for stealing my phone. I missed not going through life wondering when the next pain was going to come.

Sure life was unpredictable and pain could come at any moment, but for me it was different. I had a condition that made sure I experienced something strange at least once a day. Sometimes the sensation was painful and sometimes I couldn't even describe it. It felt like my nonexistent leg was being compressed. No amount of painkillers could relive that sensation. It just went away spontaneously.

Music made it better. When I listened to music, my brain drifted off and focused on the beats I heard. For many music drowned out other people's voices. For me it drowned out my own pain.

I'd started making music when I was 15. My brother lent me his laptop and let me download virtual DJ. I had no idea what I was doing when I started out. I just liked the idea of creating my own beats, mixing thing, just...creating music. Through Virtual DJ I learned how to beat match, remix, add effects and a couple other things. I started off just creating remixes of other songs and moved on to recording my own sounds and adding them to songs.

There was just something about creating my own music, something monumental yet invisible. When I listened to other people, I listened to their life stories, needs, wants. When I created music, I told my life story. For many it would sound like random beats. For me every beat told a story. Every climax had a meaning. And every added sound was a memory.

Who wouldn't want to listen to their own flatline over and over again? The mere fact that you could listen told a story. You survived.

My parents didn't like my hobby of course and so refused to fund it. Eric decided he was going to do it. He said he saw something in me, something that made him buy all those microphones and keyboards. He always said the only time he saw a genuine smile on my face was when I created and listened to music.

But Eric hadn't just given me money. He'd gone beyond the call of duty. He'd done what no older brother should ever have to do for his little brother. He'd brought me back to life.

As I lay in bed on a Sunday night, I thought about my life before everything happened.

I played power forward for the New Horizon high school men's basketball team. I wasn't exactly a towering height, but I was quick on the ball. It was what made me a good player. As captain, I led the team to back-to-back state championships.

Off the court, I was a normal student. I wasn't a fan of school, but I excelled far beyond my peers. I took subjects I didn't even like to please my parents. I worked hard to make sure I got into the right college according to them.

I had a couple of friends. They weren't many, but they were enough. I wasn't the popular guy at school and I was okay with that.

I talked to almost everyone. That was just me, I guess. I saw the good in people. I always thought everyone had a story to tell if you just gave them a chance. I was by no means the nicest guy around. I was impatient and sometimes my temper got the better or me. I was also very stubborn and that got me into trouble.

I was just not the kind of guy to sit and watch someone get hurt and so my parents got called to school more than they'd had to grace the school with their presence for Eric. Most of the time was because the abused kid feared testifying against the bully so the cases always went one way. No one seemed to know why me and Thomas or whoever were suddenly wrestling in the hallway.

Despite the fights, I got along with most students.

Outside school, I was a regular guy. I lived with my parents, my older brother and my younger sister. We were a normal hardworking African American family. My dad worked at a local law firm and mom stayed at home and looked after everyone. The community adored us and we adored them.