The Boy Next Door

Prologue

I heard him play for the first time when I was five years old. Just a few notes, plunked out by his small fingers on the old piano in the attic, tinny, and a little out of tune. I was drawn to the window, watching him play long past my bedtime. I don't know what about this boy fascinated me that one summer night, or why I continued watching him for the next ten years. I knew little about him, except that he lived next door to me, in our small town in northern Washington.

This town was a quiet one. Most days, the only commotion to be heard was the crashing of waves on the rocky sea shore and the squawking of seagulls soaring over the Pacific. It was haunting, in a way, but also serene. When I grew old enough to appreciate it, I would watch the sunset almost every day of the summer, and whenever I could during the rest of the year. Day after day, it was always the same.

My parents raised me well, in a nice house on the beach, and although I would have liked to have siblings, I had a happy childhood. I made a game out of chasing the seagulls so they would fly away, and on rainy days I would be content curling up in my bed with a good book, or plucking a few notes on my cello that I received for my eighth birthday. It took me many years to realize that not everyone lived like I did, more or less content with the world.

But sometimes even I was not content. My daily sunset gazing often gave me an intense longing for what was past the horizon. Little did I know that what laid beyond for me took the form of a boy, who shattered my world by only a touch of those piano keys that one summer night.

A/N: Hey guys! I had a random inspiration for this story when I was bored in class. I hope you like it, and please consider voting!