I climbed up the broken stone stairs with katana in hand. My modified revolver bounced against my leg while the newly founded rifle was hidden inside my leather duster. Freshly found rounds of ammo jingled in my pocket. Objects that I collected jumped around in my black knapsack. My cracked and dry fingers curled around the dented metal door. The hinges squeaked as I pulled back the white metal door. It didn't take much strength for the door to fly off the hinges and tumbled down the stairs. I tighten my grip on the handle of the katana as I waited for something to run out at me.
Nothing came by. I slipped into the building. Papers were scattered around the floor. One staircase was collapsed while the other one could only get to the second floor. The giant windows were shattered completely or to the brink of shattering. I slipped my katana back into its sheath. I casually walked down a well-known hallway. Some of the blue locked were hanging off of their hinges while others were dented in from a struggle to get in.
Locks hung in the loops of untouched lockers, their silvery arches locking away whatever goodies inside. I didn't have anything to break inside. There was probably moldy sandwiches and ratty binders in there anyway. Nothing worth taking. I turned the corner to another pair of stairs. The parking lot caved into the stairs, blocking my way to my goal.
I kicked up the resting dust and gravel of the pile. I continued to the hopefully not crumbled or blocked stairwell. I walked past the doorless bathrooms where the stalls were stripped clean for their metal. I glanced in the horribly acoustic sounded room before skidding to a halt.
The familiar black piano was still there. The piano that I spent three years standing around it straining my voice every day for five days. I stepped into the somehow yet intact room. The cracking walls were held by achieved goals and maybe some eroding rebar. Broken wheeled bookcases followed the one edge of the wall. With every step, the salmon color tiles shifted underneath my feet. The black piano had the thick layer of dust on the closed lid. Years old sheets of music stood high and fragile on the built-in music stand.
I lifted the keyboard cover to reveal the unscathed black and white keys. I plucked a lone D note, the medium sound bouncing off the walls. I moved up to an G, the pitch sounding higher than the last. I looked at the faded sheet music to figure out the notes. I tried my best with what a year of piano lessons had taught me. The notes came out flat or too sharp, but they were beautiful than the silence.
I closed the cover over the keys and wished that I could push this back to the settlement. To teach the children there how beautiful the world was before. None of the books we’d read would never move them as much as music. My music teacher would always tell me that every time there was a lesson. Music tells a story with no words said. One day, maybe I can sneak the children out here.
I move to the smaller rooms that held the orchestra lockers. The dog-like lockers were locked tight. Each and every one of them like the first day of school was tomorrow. No instruments were here. All was taken probably for parts.
I left the room and continued to my goal. The next flight of stairs were crumbled on the second flight, but it was the best I could do. I jumped down to the floor, and my knees buckled underneath my weight. I slowly walked down the white hallway. The Cafe. The place I spent my lunchtime eating the unwanted food from others and never paid for a meal in my life. Talking to my friends about the classes we had before and the class we’re going to have next. Staring down the people that stared back at us. Boy, all the stares I would be getting now. The metal gates were slammed tight against the floor. No way were they budging.
“When I think I’m right there,” I hissed. “I go back three steps.”
I made my way to the the back room of the Cafe. Pieces of woods boarded up the frame to keep me out. I pried the wood off with my bare fingers. A rumble in the building made me stop. Small chunks from the ceiling fell onto my head. That’s not good. I quickly pulled off the board that I was working on before pulling myself through the small opening that I made. The ceiling above me caved in.
I barely made it out of the landing zone. My ankle was caught underneath the fallen rubble. The rebar broke through the ceiling and went through my calf. I groaned, the pain crawling up my leg. I looked around where I was. Inside the Cafe. Everything was clean and untouched. I can’t reach anything around me. I looked behind me to assess the situation. The rebar was not hitting any bone. Only hitting my bleeding muscles. My ankle and foot was numb, guessing that they were broken.
I pulled the knapsack off of my back. I dug inside to find the pocket knife that my father gave me. I sawed off the strap of the new rifle and pulled it out to the open. I opened the chamber to check if a bullet was in it. Shiny and clean, that’s what I wanted. I pointed the rifle at the bend of the rebar. I shot the bullet. It doesn’t hit the rebar, but it hits the broken concrete. I shot again. No dice. Once more. The ping was a sign of relief. The rebar was broken in half.
All I have to do is pull my broken bones out of a pile of concrete. No big deal. I shot at the concrete to break it up more. I shook my leg, trying to get my foot more loosed. I shifted up just a bit. My rifle wedged itself underneath the concrete and pushed up as hard as it could. The pressure lifted up my bleeding leg. I scrapped my hands and my good hand against the floor to pull myself out. The building moaned again, the concrete shifting again. It collapsed over my rifle and hid it from me. I leaned against the metal counter to catch my breath. My ankle hung limp in the air. It grossly swished from side to side as I moved my leg.
I limped around the enclosed area to search for food. A couple of cans of food, spoiled milk in lukewarm containers, warm soda bottles turned up. Most of this was already hit. I stuffed the cans and bottles of soda into my knapsack before unlocking the metal gates. They barely opened since there wasn’t much juice in the building anymore. I slid my sack underneath then followed quickly after it. I made my way back up to the piano room.
The black piano was still intact and in its place. I found my somehow still charged digital camera. I kneeled down and took a picture of the piano with the sun beams streaming through the faded windows. I packed away the camera, took one longful look towards the soon forgotten piano, and left the building the way I came in.
