The piano

April 29, 2011
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My fingers played the five notes that marked my story; the tune started with a soft tap on my loneliness.

The mirror in front of me reflected the shattered girl my mother left in her room. The sad melody that she wanted played on her death bed, played in my mind. Her eyes weak with sickness and grief belonged to me; my life was a repetition of hers. In her shadow I lived. The glass window in my room flew open with the wind, revealing her existence among us still. Unease found its way into my hearts core, eating at the last bit of my individual identity. She was still watching over me and keeping a precise eye on my step-father. It was the time of twilight. I could hear his footsteps. My trembling fingers caressed the piano keys. My only solace was among the work of dead composers. The notes that quietly echoed through the walls of my imprisonment played my agitation. It was those five notes that related the tension, climax and release of my being. I gave myself up to my senses. My eyes shut with terror put all the responsibility on my hearing. The tune resonated through my soul. My thoughts dysfunctional at such a suffocating distance resolved that there was no way out of this. I could almost feel the keys tense under my bitter touch as his steps grew closer. My grip tightened on the frail piano. It moaned. In just five steps he was at touching distance, his smell intoxicating.
‘Stop playing’ he whispered. My heart froze. I couldn’t stop.

The next key I pressed with tension. I reached lustful sin.

His breath, warm and wet against my skin, spread itself on my neck, plaguing it with greed. My lips didn’t utter a word, yet the thoughts in my mind squirmed and shouted with resentment. His hands found their way around me skillfully. My body so tense was on the verge of snapping. Fear rolled down my once pure cheeks. His fingers wiped away my dismay before it melted into my skin, marking it with guilt and cowardice. The piano notes wept for me, grieving with their soft tune; the tune that whispered an untold secret. I was a victim of my own faintheartedness.

‘Please stop fa...’ I tried to cry out.

‘Call me sweetheart’ he spat from his teeth.

I was too scared to say anything else. My tiny dancers slid their way on the wet keys that kept asking for more. The blood drained out of my mind flowing down to them, tensioning their motion, making them lose control of their magical rhythm. His hands took over my body. His face was the picture of hunger. The beast, unable to manoeuvre himself on my dainty physique roared with frustration making me shy away from triggering his anger. My legs trembled as his eyes devoured my body. Hatred spelled it’s every letter delicately on my face. The man whom I looked up to and respected was slowly killing me with his lust. The white dress that once wrapped my body softly stung me with its bloody thorns, feeding into my impurity. Crimson stains of that moment could never be wiped away, tattooed for good on my pale skin.

Lost in confusion I played my favourite note. Peaceful oblivion. The third note filled my soul with peace and tranquillity.

My eyes still shut, closed even tighter, taking me to a different place. A place where things were normal again, and my body wasn’t a lustful sight for men; a place of innocence. White daisies surrounded my delicate shape, massaging it slowly, tending to my needs. It was a peaceful painting, crafted gracefully, emphasising my smile and comfort. Emphasising the impossible. My fingers fondled gently on the body beside me that sang to me a life of serenity; the body that never failed to envelop me in its tender touch, enchanting me with its rhythm. I fell in love with it all over again. Unable to keep a strong grip on that perfect life my eyelids slipped from their firm grip, bringing me back to reality. But it wasn’t the reality I had just left. I felt a savage, intense joy fill me as the cruel beast mounted my fragile body. Before long though, an extreme, bloody thrust of sanity was injected into me, jerking me back to my senses. Murderous disgust filled me, nibbling on the remnants of my sanity.
I sat there unable to move, frozen in thought.

My piano knew my next key by heart. Lament.

My body was wet with pain and shameful sin. Remorse flooded my mind, infecting every corner of it. I was on the verge of insanity. My former self was a blurry image of the girl I used to be. I didn’t know where I belonged anymore. After the fiend curbed his lascivious hunger he stood up straight before me, his shadow covered my timid self. His eyes were black, shining with satisfaction. A smug smile shaped itself on his face. Standing there he gloated in his victory, marking his territory. He carried himself out of my room without a word, leaving me there, fingers glued to my only friend, looking like a dove with a broken wing. Tears painted my cheeks with excruciating agony at being a coward. Grief was my only companion left. My fingers released themselves from the pressure of relating my secret. It felt like I was floating as I stood there. The walls around me were black in my eyes; my vision tainted their purity as the beast did mine. Bitter feelings rose inside me, growing thorns as I watered them with anger. I had become a walking metaphor of despair; a stranger in my own land. As I looked down, I witnessed a tear of blood trailing down my inner thigh. My new signature was a tear drop.

As I reached the climax of my impurity, the next note was; hatred.

The walls around me suffocated me, closing in on me. I could hardly breathe. A gust of wind suddenly pushed through the slightly open window. It sounded like an out of breath whisper. Are you there Mother? Can you hear me? I shouted. I couldn’t stop myself from weeping as I questioned the wind like a mad woman. What has become of me? A surge of anger burst inside me as I felt myself drift closer to the brink of insanity. I couldn’t do that to myself. I couldn’t degrade my soul anymore than it has already been belittled. I would stand stronger than the feeble girl I had made myself. Darkness prevailed over my senses as I tired of thinking and embodying immense abhorrence towards the man my mother trusted. I slept on the cold floor, my eyes covered with a veil of forgetfulness.

A ray of burning sun that pierced through my sleepy eyes woke me up. Memories of the previous night flooded me with their misery. I stood up; my legs were hardly able to carry themselves as I slowly walked across the room in a state of absent-mindedness. I sat down on the stool that connected me to the beautiful body I loved. I started playing. The musical fingers that swayed under my touch remind me of who I am. Mellow notes built themselves gently, creating a shattering climax as they ended with a soft kiss on the last key. The door squeaked. I shuddered with panic. It couldn’t be him. Not again. His scent reached me from behind the door. Numbness took over my body and mind, I couldn’t think. I just played the repeated melody of my sorrow. As he stood before me, he just stared. He didn’t touch me.

‘Look up at me’, he said.

Afraid of making him angry, I slowly looked up into his eyes. They looked different. They looked like the man whom I had known my whole life. If it wasn’t for my aching body and my still wet face I might have thought everything was a dream.

‘You have your Mothers beautiful eyes,’ he whispered. There was a tone of sadness in his words that moved me.

‘Thank you father’ I whispered back.

His eyes suddenly changed. They grew black and angry. He raised his hand, big and fleshy and slapped my face. Disfigured blots of tears melted into the piano as my head rested in its comforting arms. The pearls around my neck rolled down one by own creating a tune of their own. My nose felt warm and runny and before I could question why, drops of blood merged themselves with my salty pain. I could see his shadow walk away. My eyes shut themselves as my life drifted into oblivion. I could still hear the piano playing on. The ivory keys became tainted with desolation. I was living in my mother’s footsteps. Little did I really know about her private life before.

Soon I knew too much.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

DesertKid said...
Jun. 5, 2011 at 4:59 pm
Some very nice ideas, looking forward to your future entries.
Khawar said...
Jun. 3, 2011 at 4:34 am
WOW! An amazing piece of writing, beautifully crafted, each and every bit
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