The Musician

"This is where it stops, this is where it ends."
"If you want to get past me well you better try again,"
"But no matter how I stall you, you won't give up your att-" I got cut off by a running sound outside. I paused my fingers, they where perfectly still as I listened. The beautiful sounds of the strings in the piano as I pressed the keys felt magical. Like I was in a symphony, playing for millions up on millions of people.
"Honey, are you really out here again performing your useless little melodies again?" A precise voice came from the shed door.
"There not useless melodies, Aunt Chrissy." I glared at my proper and prim looking aunt. She had a pink pencil skirt, a pink fancy jacket, a white blouse, and blonde curly hair. When she walked, her stiff curls didn't move an inch. I bet it's all that hairspray she uses to cover up every single bit of nastiness. Heya, I'm Melanie! Welcome to my musically depressing world.