Ice Bound (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 6

Melissa huffed into her cell phone, "Life." She sprawled out on her bed with her new items still scattered around her.

"You always sound like it's the end of the world." Savvy sighed, "Are you really that bored?"

"Yes."

"Take it easy, I have to go." Savvy hung up.

Melissa groaned and looked at the clock as she tossed her phone aside. She sat up and reached for her new Chopin book and flipped through the pages. Was her life boring? The question echoed in her mind. Leave it to Savvy to question her like this.

Tired of overthinking, she stood up and left her room with the music in hand. Cynthia was already on her way home for the weekend. That meant she had at least half an hour to attempt to muck her filthy brain before more junk was shoved in. Melissa loved her sister, to an extent.

"Mel, don't pound on the keys too hard. I don't want to pay for another snapped string." Her father warned as he watched his hermit of a daughter turn into the music room.

Melissa waved her hand at him, indicating 'okay' as the door clicked behind her. She had been on a winning streak. She had not spoken a single word to her father from the day of the move to that moment. It's like the man was home anyways, so it didn't matter. He didn't matter.

She grew up without him. The most contact she had with him was a Skype call that lasted no more than fifteen minutes every other day. Her father was a good for nothing. He missed every important event Melissa could think of.

Melissa flicked her brown braid behind her and took a seat on the wooden bench. A marked up version of Beethoven's Eroica sat on the piano. It was her favorite piece. Her typewriter like handwriting was sprawled across the page. She had included the key moves to her skating program in her score for reference. It was an understatement to say that skating was on everything. Her black and red piano bag even bore the name of one of the competitions she had competed in years ago.

Trash. Melissa cracked her knuckles before haphazardly chucking the score aside. The pages fluttered to the ground in a randomized manner. The new book was thrown onto the stand in the same manner. Courtesy of Melissa's handy pencil, the etude was in the early stages of being marked up. The dynamics and important notes were sloppily circled on the page.

It had been a while since she had played. Melissa began to pound on the old white keys. Her emotions flowed into the piece.

Cynthia stood outside the door to the piano room. She listened in on her younger sister's practice. To be honest, she missed hearing Melissa play. Although something seemed off.

"Hey Mom!" She chimed and walked into the living room. "I'm home."

Her mom was sprawled across the couch reading a book. "Welcome home!" She glanced over, "What's up?"

Cynthia threw her bag onto the coffee table. "The usual, classes and skating." She dropped onto one of the cushions, "Is something up with Mel? Her Revolutionary Etude isn't so 'revolutionary'."

"Who, Mel?" Her father popped in, "She's been... Irritated."

Everyone stared at each other. Irritated wasn't the right word. Everyone listened to Melissa's playing as they began to think. Something wasn't lining up. One by one, each family member spurt random adjectives a reasonings.

Melissa stopped playing. "I'm not deaf!" Her voice rang loud and clear through the walls. She slammed her downs on the keys, creating a horrible clash of notes. The sound of the key cover slamming down echoed.

Her mom stood up, alerted by her daughter's distressed actions. She slowly made her way to the door of the piano room. Her husband ushered her on. This was a new behavior for everyone.

"Melissa, what's wrong dear?" She shut the door quietly behind her and sat in the chair next to the piano bench. "This has been happening more often."

Melissa sat with her head against the key cover. Her arms covered her tear stained eyes. She sensed the presence of her mother, but didn't acknowledge it. She was hated. They pretended to care.

"Melissa? You need to tell me."

"Leave me alone." The daughter croaked, "Just leave me alone." She swatted her mom's hand away before she could touch her.

Mrs. Sadent stood up and took a deep breath. "If you want it that way." She opened the door. "Don't forget we are going to the rink today. I want to check it out, and I have a feeling you want to skate."

Without a response, she left the room. Melissa wiped her face. She stared at her reflection in the mirror that was positioned so she could see her hands while playing. Liars. Melissa moved her hair out of her face for a better view. I don't care.

...

Melissa had eventually calmed down enough to walk out. The T.V was blaring the local news. Cynthia had left with their mom to the rink to take care of business. Her father was still laying on the couch enjoying the fact he didn't have to work. Like she cared anyways. He was the reason she was here.

"Hey Mel, you didn't go to the rink? I thought you loved to go." He didn't take his eyes off the screen.

"Like you care anyways. You were the one who missed literally everything." The girl grumbled and passed him. It was odd having him around. Her father was gone most of her life. For the entire family to miraculously be able to live together, in her mind, was nothing but meaningless.

Her father sat up, "Listen, I can't help I was overseas working all the time Mel. You know-"

Melissa slipped a pair of shoes on. "I'm going for a bike ride." She trudged towards the garage door. She placed her hand on the door knob. "Oh yeah, I don't have a bike!" She kicked her shoes off and marched off. Nothing was in her favor.