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FickleLight spewed in from the glass window, silhouetting the boy’s body sitting at the ebony grand piano. His slender hands could be seen curved over the bright piano keys, beads of sweat formed on the back on his knuckles. His index finger twitched slightly, and in response he repositioned his hands, hoping no one noticed. At one point, he removed his hands altogether from the piano keys, only to place them back at middle c. Although he enjoyed playing music in higher octaves, the melody for this piece required a mix of soft and deep notes.Fickle
“Just play, damn it,” a girl leaning against the grand piano said,
by ~transparent-color
NightBlack. Pitch Black. Black like the night sky without stars and a moon was all she could see as the girl with white blond hair stood in the middle of the deserted road. She closed her eyes, looking for the answer only to be disappointed by more questions. She inhaled deeply, letting the cold, winter night air fill her up…consume her. She stood in her black athletic shorts, hoodie, and trusty Nikes surrounded by nothing but her thoughts. She exhaled and her crystal blue eyes pierced the night, all thoughts gone. She lifted her hood over her head, letting her hair find its place. She stood, staring at the night, thinking about everything yeNight
by ~transparent-color
It Ends TonightHer fingers caressed the keys. Did she dare disturb the stuffy silence? The young girl shook her blond hair out of her eyes as she slowly sat down on the bench. She took a deep breath, tears were already forming at the corners of her crystal blue eyes, as she gently placed her fingers on the piano. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing at two a.m. in the music room, but she had an idea. The moonlight keys were so peaceful she felt like an intruder when her fingers found their way gently onto the keys. She paused, her eyes closed, and tears began to fall silently from her eyes as she struck the keys. She kept her eyes closed as the tIt Ends Tonight
by ~transparent-color
SmackSmack. His hand hit my face. Hard. I bite my lip as his hand swung again.Smack
Smack.
I stared straight ahead, determined not to cry, focusing with all my might on the time, 11:05 pm, willing myself not to bow down to him, not to give in. His ridicules echoed through the empty, forgotten house as he yelled, spitting in my face. The words were nothing to me but noise.
11:07.
Had no one heard him? How couldn’t they? Even if they did would they care? I am just that girl who wears sweaters in July, and turns her Ipod up too loud. No one cares about me.
Smack. 11:09. A single tear slipped out of
by ~transparent-color
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