I Dare You To Read This Book.

Grandmother's keyboard

u/JJCheesman1d
I was twelve years old when my grandmother began teaching me to play piano. She was in a band when she younger, and she was extremely good. Although, I only got to hear her play once. I never even knew that she played piano for the longest time. I think it reminded her too much of when she was younger, or maybe she just didn't like it like she used to. In truth, I don't know. But I do wish I heard her play more often, or had a recording of her music. Whenever she played I was completely entranced. The beautiful music that woman's fingers could produce was unlike anything I had ever heard before. I remember the feeling of hearing her music, closing my eyes, and wanting to fall back into the soothing melody that came from those old keys.

I wasn't the happiest kid when I was younger. I wasn't what some may call a 'problem child', but I had my fair share of issues. My doctor diagnosed me with ADHD, and I always felt down, sad even. Maybe I should have talked to someone about that, the depression that is. But I was already taking medication for something, and I didn't want to add something to that list. I still don't in fact. I, for the most part, ignore my depression and anxiety. That sounds insane, right? Can you even have anxiety if you can claim that it's something that is able to be ignored? Well, I wouldn't have thought so, not before that piano.

It was the summer, and my grandmother was watching over me one night while my mother was at work. I wasn't the type to go outside and play, I was always inside, watching T.V. or reading. Nothing bothered me more than social interaction. To this day, I hate it. People expect too much out of you, you're expected to give into social norms and act according to other people's standards. So, I always opted to stay in, and that day was no different. I was watching some silly show, when my grandmother came in from the kitchen.

"Ronnie, you're watching T.V. again huh?" She said. I didn't speak or even turn to look at her, I just nodded. Through the corner of my eye, I could see her place her hands on her hips.

"Well, do you want to come help me in the garden?" Again, no eye contact, I just simply shook my head. She waited for a moment, and I could feel her eyes on me, searching me. Then she simply walked into her bedroom, and didn't return. After about twenty minutes, I heard it. Piano keys, played in an arranged tune that was hauntingly beautiful. It was sad and somber, but it was also hopeful and innocent. It stirred emotions in me that I wasn't aware I'd had, it was entrancing. My feet picked me up and carried me to my grandmother's bedroom almost on their own accord. My grandmother sat there on a stool in the corner of the room. She was playing on a keyboard she must have pulled out of storage in the open closet, because I had never seen it before then. Her fingers danced and played among the keys with such speed and grace that it was just as hypnotizing to watch her play as it was to listen.

It is hard to tell how much time passed while I sat on the bed listening to my grandmother play. If I had to guess, it was only a couple of minutes, but as the music filled my eardrums and wrapped me in its embrace I became lost in it. Time didn't have meaning then, nor did I or the room I was sitting in. The only thing that existed, was Grandma and her piano. Something was calling out to me from the arrangement of notes, a meaning, a message. A message that I almost very nearly understood. Then, all at once, it stopped. The magic spell that the music had cast over me was over, and I opened my eyes. I didn't even realize they were closed.

My grandmother sat turned in her seat smiling at me.

"Did you like it?" She asked.

"It was beautiful!"

She nodded to the chair she kept at her writing desk and said,

"Good, I'm going to teach you how to play. You need an outlet. I think you're a lot like me Ronnie. When I was a girl, I didn't like to talk to friends or play outside. Your great grandmother found that frustrating. She hated that I didn't like to talk, but you know what I figured out?" I stood up and moved the chair by the writing desk and place it beside my grandmother's stool, and took a seat.