The Music In Me

The Music In Me- Chap. 1

I could feel the sun bouncing off my skin and warming me through and through. It was a gentle, mysterious warmth that made me wonder what miracle was worked to cause it. I felt a soft melody forming in my head, one that lifted as high as the heavens and then came back to earth in the form of a simple thing like a morning sunrise. Breathtakingly beautiful in so many ways I could not express.

My eyes fluttered open, and the day began.

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I've been waking up to the melody of the sun for eight years, and occasionally the pitter patter of rain added a stronger bass line, or the soft falling of snow expressed through a flutes' singing was evident to my song.

It had been ten years since I began living in the care of an adoption home. Soon it would be my eighteenth birthday and I would be able to leave this place that served as my home. I remember the night I was left behind, at the doorstep, ironically, and wrapped in my precious blanket that still had my mother's lingering scent on it.

I had been only six. I didn't understand a thing; all I knew was that my mother had left me on the doorstep of some strange building, alone, and in the darkness of night. She had told me that there would be to many spectators during the day.

The headmistress had told me years later, that I didn't have a single tear on my cheek, nor about to spill over from my eyes. I had a look of confusion distorting my face. And that, apparently, was all.

I am seventeen. Eighteen in two months.

I let out a deep sigh, and untangled the warm blankets from my body. I rose from my bunk and stretched, feeling the muscles pulling and smiled slightly with pleasure.

I turned my head towards the window, looking at the golden sun. A smile played at my lips, and I put a wanting hand on the glass.

"Morning, beautiful," I heard a soft, sleep filled, masculine voice say.

I turned my head away from the window and dropped my hand. "Morning, Hyden," I said softly, not wanting to wake anybody else up.

I walked silently and swiftly over to his bunk and sat on the edge. Hyden was about the same age as me and was like a brother. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the wall and rubbed his eyes, letting out a yawn. His dirty blond hair was all over the place, flat on one side and fluffed out on the other. He must've seen my smirk because he tried to smooth down the bed head he liked to call his hair.

"Yours is bad too, you know," he said with fake hostility, pursing his lips and making a pouting face.

I let out a muffled laugh, and gave him a smile that caused his cheeks to turn a shade pinker. I suppressed a smirk and smoothed down my brown-blond hair only to discover my bed head was as bad as, if not worse than, Hyden's own.

He smiled triumphantly.

I rolled my eyes and stood up. "Hungry?" I asked him, knowing what his answer would be.

"Of course," he said, throwing a single sheet off him.

"Hyden, you didn't give your blankets to me again, did you? I told you, you should worry about yourself a little more often. I don't want you to get hypothermia because of me," I complained to him, and he grinned sheepishly.

"You looked cold," he said, answering with a shrug.

"And what about you?" I asked, walking towards him.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

I smiled quickly at him. "But I do. And you can't stop me. So deal with it."

He stuck his tongue out playfully at me and I arched an eyebrow, suppressing laughter.

"Come on, I'm hungry," he whined, and I let out my laughter as soon as we were out of the bunk-room, listening to it echo down the empty halls.

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I led the way down the stairs into the kitchen, where we were, as always, the firsts to attack the food set out on the old countertop.