The One With the Key to My Piano

Chapter five

Life . . . what's the meaning of it? What is my meaning for life? I can't play the piano and I can't protect myself, so how come I'm still here? I'm trapped in a cage. The world has the key. But no one will open it for me. No one will set me free.

They keep me in the dark cage for their entertainment. To laugh at my pain and mock me. In this world, no one has to do something horrible in order to have people put them through hell. All you need to do is smile and they'll come after you. Surrounding you, suffocating you with their evil laughter.

They'll point at you and laugh. They'll tell you you're fat and ugly, even when you're the perfect size and beautiful. They'll tell you that you don't have a purpose and that you're worthless, just so that they can feel good about themselves.

Some people, don't care. All they want, is to feel good about themselves. Some people, want to feel good from others. So, they'll rape them. They don't care if the person is screaming out in pain or begging for mercy. They'll just keep using your body to make them feel good. Because people are selfish.

But, there's not a lot of kind people on this Earth. Most of them have ended their life with a rope, a gun, a razor, a clif, or a building. Anything that they can find to end their pain, they'll use it. Some kind people, are weak. Like me. Like snow. My feelings, are like snow. When somebody has a warm hand, even if they just barely touch the snow, it'll melt.

But I want to change that. So, why don't I go for a walk?

I slowly sat up and got out of the bed. I slowly walked out into the long hallways of the hospital. As I walked, my thoughts echoed through my mind and the long, death scented hallways. The air got heavy. Making it hard for me to breath. Making it hard for me to escape.

My feet, making a soft clap sound as they hit the floor. My hands, making a gently rubbing sound as they brushed against my gown. As the noises got quieter, I could smell the scent of flowers. But how could it be? It was in the middle of winter.

I stepped outside, and was shocked to feel warm freshly cut grass in between my toes. I looked around, confused. I looked over at the garden that was brightly colored by newly bloomed flowers. I walked to the garden and sat down infront of a rose that was the brightest one of them all.

I leaned in close, and breathed in the fresh scent of the rose. It smelt like life. But not like the life that I knew. Life that was happy and cheerful. I picked the rose, but then the smell of life faded from it. I looked at it, puzzled. I went over to the grass and digged in the dirt to make a place to plant the flower. I gently placed the bottom of the stem in the dirt and softly patted soil around it. Then the smell of life came back to it.

I smiled and then stood up. I walked back inside of the hospital. Like a flower, we can't just pick a kind person who's beautiful and just pull them from the Earth. If you do, then the smell of life will leave them, and the dull scent of death will surround them. Let them grow, and let them live.