Ephemeral

Ephemeral - short-lasting

Anastasia was 11 when she met him. While playing the white ivory keys she knew that he was the one playing the piano. Touching and playing every key, pressing down the ivory. Taking control, it wasn't hard. Tuning each note how he liked it, laying the cards of her faith down. Bending the noise, he would manipulate. Taking control and dominating. Play, press, pound. Unsatisfied? Then change the sound. Winding me up, he would love. Watching me fall, he would leave. He would play me like a piano.

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She was always the prettiest little girl. I couldn't drown her dreams with mine. As she grew she became beautiful, the light from the auditorium dancing across her face. The shadow of the piano bowing in her existence. Her angelic complection taunting me.

The girl is the glowing center of his life, like the sun. The light is the only reason we are in existence, as she is the only reason he is. Her existence was painful to him as her love for him was too pure and her light was too bright for him to bear.