Erased

Revolution

'It feels like your drowning and everyone else around you is breathing'

I could see the black pit once again. The darkness reaching out like tendrils trying to grab me and pull me in.

I was so close now, teetering on the edge one more step and it would all be over. I didn't exactly know what was in there but it surely had to be better than this..

Im Freyã, I live in modern New York.

My sister died about a year ago, my mom spends most of her day muttering something while staring outside at the dirty sidewalks and busy gray roads. Or she sews. She replicates all the clothes my little sister wore every day; I guess it keeps her mind off things. My dad works in England at a research lab so he rarely comes home. He was never there before anyway. Sometimes a death draws people together, well it did the goddamn opposite. My family are worn down torn and hurt, so am I.

Im fidgeting its nearly 4:00, end of school. I had to get to my lesson; I desperately needed to play. I was moving my head to a none existant beat inside my head. The last 5 minutes were like torture; Its like this every day for me. Finally the sound of the bell pierced through the classroom straight through my head. I grabbed my backpack and sprinted towards the music school. I had to get there, i needed to calm down. I was running through the hall it seemed like a never ending road you could not escape from, until Andi tripped me up. I went skidding across the gray floor, biting my lip in the process.

I slowly got up wheezing from running so much. I turned round venom in my voice.

"Sorry was I in your way bitch?"

Andi turned round looked me up and down with those judging eyes. She flicked her golden hair and started to open her mouth to say something. I didn't really care about what she had to say so I veered past her and ran on. Leaving a gawping Andi standing motionless in the corridor.

I finally reached the Music School. The Music School was the oldest building of our school. It had been standing for centuries, with its faded wooden walls and slate roof. It seemed to heave and groan in pain yet it was filled with so much beauty. I was now late and Mr Schmid was going to be so infuriated at me. Mr Schmid was German he let all his students call him by his first name, Kurt he didnt believe in the formality between teacher and pupil. Of course we still had to respect him as such but he treats you like an adult.

So I burst into the classroom ready to apologise. He looks up from those dark round spectacles and says 'shut it and sit down' with a quick gesture of his hand.

He puts down the book he was reading and merely says play. And so I do. I play, and I play and if I messed up he would shout 'from the top' and I would start again no matter how far in the piece I was. I played for hours eventually he joined in and we played and played. I played until my fingers felt raw and the cuts on my fingers reopened and started bleeding, but still I kept going because i was lost in the music and i was emerged so deep in the music that the pain inside gently numbed itself and drifted away...