Summer Love: Before the Spark

Chapter 4

Jesse was staring at the black piano, memories swarming her mind. Bad memories.

She already knew that she couldn't do it. She already knew what would happen, but maybe just maybe this time nothing bad would happen.

Jesse doubted that and let her finger glide across the top of the piano, her finger collecting dust.

She was still forced to play the piano and she yearned desperately to get away from it.

"Jesse."

Jesse knew she definitely couldn't do this now.

Immediately, she felt the color from her face drain and bitterness course through her vains and it took alot to not snap as she slowly turned around.

She faced her mother and her mother's gaze was as stern as ever.

"Sit down. You have alot of practicing to do," Jesse's mother said directly.

"I'm not playing," Jesse said, "I-I can't...," Jesse trailed off as she noticed the rage in her mother's eyes.

"Sit down now Jesse," Her mother said, her tone beginning to fill with anger.

"I said I'm not playing! I can't-"

"Don't give me that nonsense Jesse! Your going to sit down and play this piano." Her mother shouted, her impatience and rage growing.

Jesse huffed, she knew she couldn't get out of this.

She groaned dramatically and turned to face the piano.

Very reluctantly, Jesse sat down on the black seat, her small hands resting on her lap.

Jesse's mother almost instantly set a score infront of Jesse.

Jesse swiftly read the title. Chopin: Étude Op. 25, No. 11

Mentally, Jesse groaned. She hated pieces like this. And she didn't think Chopin remembered that pianists only have about ten fingers and not fifty-million.

"Are you going to play it or sit there staring at the piece all day?" Jesse's mother asked, her arms folding over the other.

About a couple of hours of agonising torture had passed and Jesse was finally able to be released. In other words able to stop playing the piano.

Jesse dashed up to her room, her hands stinging like crazy from getting smacked so many times for playing wrong or too harshly.

She was breathing rather heavily. It had happened and Jesse couldn't even focus during her session.

Jesse paced around her room. Occasionally running her cold fingers through her messy dark brown hair.

Jesse perked up as she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," Jesse said, watching anxiously as her bedroom door opened.

"Hey Jesse," Her brother said warmly.

Her brother walked in, his eyebrows raised. "Are you OK? I heard you playing the piano again and I sure missed hearing you play, but...," James trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah.... It happened again," Jesse immediately said then sighed dramatically.

"Jesse... Why don't you just tell mom?" He asked.

"I try, but she doesn't listen," Jesse said.

"Um...," He shifted, "Well she listens to me," James muttered quietly.

"Yeah and their's basically no use in trying since she hates me!" Jesse exclaimed.

"No Jesse she doesn't," James said, but it only aroused Jesse's anger.

"How do you know that?  You don't even see how she treats me," Jesse shouted as she crossed her arms over her chest.

James opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it.

"Please just leave me alone...," Jesse trailed off, averting her gaze.

Jesse's brother silently left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jesse sat down on the edge of her bed and buried her face in her warm lap.

She grasped her thick brunette hair and sighed slowly.

The piano was her worst nightmare and she just couldn't get away from it no matter how hard she tried.

Jesse's aching hands were red and she was extremely frustrated.

Jesse sat up and examined the faded scars that ran up and down her arms.

It was clear that the scars were a couple of years old, but each one held terrible memories, memories that Jesse wished so desperately to forget.

"If only that day never would've happened," Jesse mumbled.