Notes

13

| Please enjoy Iris' wedding song while you read :) |

The feel of familiar sheets on top of my skin made sleeping just that little bit easier. The air was cool around me as I woke up in my own bed for the first time in what seemed like forever, grateful that machines and antibiotics that should be called sedatives didn't awaken with me. From a distance, the sound of the kettle boiling let me know mum was awake, probably trying to find something to do, unable to cope with unoccupied fingers. Mum had taken a week off of work so she could help with my recovery process.

I slowly placed my feet on the floor beneath me, moving carefully as to not hurt my stomach. I winced as I stood, my head automatically filled with a throbbing tat could only be described as mind-numbing. The doctor said that the headaches would disappear after a few days, an idea that I welcomed gracefully. He had also said to try and walk everyday, even if it was just a few steps, to help the blood flow to my stomach. Each step seemed to add another dull throb throughout my body, so I sat down as soon as I reached the piano stool. I dragged it out slowly, a quiet clicking noise emanating from the chair as different types of metal collided with each other. It felt good to be at home, and by home, I meant with my piano; the only part of my life I could truly control.

I had begun to learn Iris' song, her wedding song that I wanted to play just for her. I had listened to it whenever I had the chance, studying each key, note and chord as the singer sung his story. Each time I had listened to it. I felt Iris' wedding; the sweet smell of cheap wine mixing with the savoury sell of an amazing home dinner. The sound of clapping and dancing as the married couple had their first dance, the acoustics sweeping each person off of their feet. With eac line of the song, I could feel the love between Iris and her husband, my heart beating with him as they both glowed with happiness. You didn't need to see happiness to know it was there, and I couldn't help but smile as Iris' voice as a young girl spoke in my head, sharing the most important words; "I do."

My fingers pressed against the keys, my mind playing the song on replay as to remember what each note sounded like. I would classify it as a blues song; wit the lyrics describing two people, that even though they might not be rich or super fancy, together, they were complete. My body swayed along with the song as I played the intro, fixing my mistakes when my fingers slipped once in a while. It sounded like the song, the song that I was determined to learn. I wished Iris could teach me personally, but I didn't want to put that much responsibility on her. I was excited to see her again, seeming she was the only one I knew that truly understood my position.

Mum knocked on the door, the fingers stopping as I heard the door open. I slowly turned around on the stool to face her, a subtle pain in my stomach making my face uncontrollably screw up.

"How you feeling buddy?"

"Better now that I'm in my own house, I hate staying in hospitals for long amounts of time." I spoke with honesty.

"Yeah, it's hard being away from home. I brought you some breakfast, just some yoghurt and fruit. Do you think you'll be able to eat it without hurting yourself?"

I smiled. "That sounds really nice. Thanks so much Mum."

"No problem. Do you want to eat it in here or out at the kitchen?"

"My stomach is still sore so I'll just eat it in here if that's okay."

"All good." Her footsteps got closer as she sat the bowl next to me. She grabbed my hand and put a spoon in it, before stroking my hair and walking out of the room. I'm glad she was around, but I was also grateful that she gave me my personal space.

"I forgot to tell you Eli, Kyra said she's coming over later today." Mum yelled out from the hallway, heading back towards the kitchen. I smiled. I hadn't spoken to her since I had gotten home from the hospital, mum had said she was helping her dad out. I spooned some of the fresh fruit and yoghurt into my mouth, it's sweet smell lingering in my nose. It was strange to eat food without knowing what it looked like; I had heard somewhere that the look of a food had the power to change the way it tasted in one's mind. I guess that was impossible for me.