She held the door knob, it felt cold, or was her hand cold?
Slowly, she turned the loose door knob, and opened the door. It made a creak sound. Obviously, it has been some time since someone opened that door.
A grand piano stood still in the centre of the dark room.
The only light source, was a thin strand of amber, evening light, coming from outside through the small hole in an old curtain.
The whole room was dusty, spider webs everywhere. Creaking sounds could be heard every now and then.
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She touched the wall with her soft hand, to her, it felt so, so, -familiar.
Following her instincts she walked towards the piano, slowly, softly, Gracefully. It was as if she was gliding.
Every step closer she got to the piano, the faster her heartbeat was.
And finally, she reached it.
It was once a glazed, fine, piano.
Now, left to collect dust.
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Only a year back, she was a really good pianist, who was gifted with an incredible talent and a beautiful face that was beyond description. She was the perfect woman in all man's eye.
Prestigious for her skill, she had performed numerous concerts that would have no seat untaken, and she would leave the audience in awe.
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With her shaking hand, she touched the piano, and slowly, opening the lid.
The view of the piano keys made her have confused feelings,
the urge to play, and the fear to play. She was struck by phobia, as if touching it would cost her her life.
Sitting still on the bench, she cried, while recalling what happened.
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It was her twenty first concert, and as usual, it was a full house. The audience turned quiet just as she played the first note.
Everyone was listening to the soothing music, suddenly with a thunderous sound, the celling collapsed. And she was struck unconsious.
When she woke up,
she found out that her face was....
disfigured.
And something was took away from her.
Since then she stopped playing the piano.
And because her beauty was no longer there, everyone that admired her before left.
And now she's alone.
Countless times she cried, unable to face the cruel reality, the cruel community.
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A voice from behind brought her back.
She turned around, to see a little girl standing by the door.
'Isabella, is that you?' the little girl called out.
She was one of the children that always accompanied her when she practiced back then. In that room.
'Is that you......' she repeated softly...
Isabella didn't make a sound,
she couldn't.
After a moment of pause, she said again :
' I've been waiting here everyday,
hoping that one day, you'll come back here,
and play the piano again.....
Are you there Isabella?
Are you there....'
She broke down into tears.
Fighting her fear, Isabella pressed the first note, and all hope seemed to come back to life.
She started to play a song, for the very first time,
in a long, long time.
It sounded as beautiful as soothing as ever.
The piano, with the pianist created a beautiful, ear pleasing melody.
They were simillar, although ruined outside, inside them, the passion hadn't completely died, and now,
It's reignited.
The little girl with a joyful feeling, carefully walked towards the source of the music, and sat down beside Isabella.
Even though unable to see, she could feel that Isabella was there, and she knew that Isabella has walked out from her fear.
Leaning against Isabella,
She smiled.
The blind and the mute sat there, tearing.
The melody's still playing,
Isabella finally found a friend, that wouldn't care how she looked like, or what condition she was in,
A true, sincere friend.
The melody's still playing,
and once again,
both of them felt the warmth in this world,
and smiled.
--------------------------------------------------
The piano's playing a starting tune,
Filled with happiness and exciting views,
Slowly, softly it's turning mute,
What is this damned, cursed Prelude?
Softly, notes are being played,
Turning sadder in each slowing pace,
Enough of this, I desperately prayed,
It's hurting my head, making me craze!
Slowly my eyes are starting to glaze,
each note kills me as if hit by a mace,
Why am I in this solemn place?
Let me away! Haste!
Joying prelude, Crying end,
What can I do to actually mend?
The sadness planted within,
my frail heart, so unsettling.
A glimpse of paradise,
Is it suffice?
My life, is it determined by dice?
Thinking of it, makes my mind paralyzed.
Now my heart's reluctant to glow,
slowly, slowly, turning hollow.
Like the soft wind being blown,
sooner or later, forgotten, unknown.
Now the tune is coming to an end,
Calmly, sadly, take it like a man.
In this world there is no end,
To the miseries suffered by man.
