A Silent Symphony - A Short Story

Five

Five;

❀❁❀❁❀

I sat in the corner of the school hall, curled up, my head buried into my knees. School had gone awfully and I didn't want to go home and face my family; not with a black eye at least. My Grandmother, my sweet, caring Grandmother would have been distraught. I wouldn't have wanted to cause her that pain.

I looked up for a second to see the grand piano in the far corner. I stared at the piano, so many memories flooding towards me, hitting me right in the heart and the gut. So many silenced memories. I reached a hand out, as if to touch it, even though it was metres away. Under the wooden instrument was a box, filled with folders. I figured it would be students' music folders, mostly.

I wiped away some of the tears and looked closely at the box. It seemed to pull me in, invite me to look through the folders and sheets. I went with my instinct and shuffled over on my knees and pulled the box out, sitting myself down cross-legged. It was coated with dust. I pulled out a folder, a black ring-binder, and blew on it. A cloud of dust filled the air, causing me to cough. (I only knew I was coughing because of the tugging sensation in my stomach and chest).

Once my eyes had stopped watering from the dust cloud of doom, I opened the ring-binder. The pen was slightly faded in some parts, but I could still read it. The student that this folder had belonged to certainly was good at music. Their coursework was neat and tidy, their notes of high quality and their music reading skills had obviously been very good.

I turned the page and saw a piece of half filled sheet music, covered ins scribbles and corrections. It had been one of their composition works. I looked at the first few notes, and had a strange sense of déjà vu. I furrowed my eyebrows together and read the rest of the notes. The last few bars were scribbled out and edited majorly, but I could still read them, as if I had been the one to make these notes. I then nodded my head to the rhythm, based on the timing of the notes. My jaw then dropped.

This folder was mine, from when I was fourteen and able to hear, and this song was based off of Josephine, the first girl that I had ever laid eyes on. I still had eyes for Josephine, perhaps more than I did three years ago.

And the only reason I had never finished Josephine's song properly was because I had gone deaf in the process.