DIRT

I touched each key, each one having it's own sound. I never knew how to play, always scared to mess up or even learn that I would never be good at it. The brown piece of instrument sat in the middle of the empty room, the sound almost echoing off the walls with the lack of furniture in the large space.

It was my grandmas, one that she gave me before passing. I had never touched it till now, my brain wrapped around a particular song, a particular boy. The more I stared at each key the more clearer the memories and the melody started to surface the part of my brain that I had told myself to forget.

I remembered his long fingers brush the keys before he started, as if petting each ivory would give him good luck or make him play better. His back would slouch a bit as he stared at the white and black key's as if it was his true love.

It was something I have never seen before, to see someone so dedicated to something that could play a beautiful tune. The room was quiet, his breath almost mute as he calmed himself, his eyes closing as if trying to forget everything but the piano in front of him.

I couldn't help but stare at him, his blonde hair, or the way he sat perfectly still. I had wondered if he fell asleep after a few more moments of silence, it didn't even look like he was breathing at this point.

I felt anxious, wanting so badly to hear the beautiful melody he had written himself. I would be the first to hear it, the one who was lucky enough to enjoy his music for the first time. Just as I had thought he wasn't going to play, just as I thought he was going to change his mind and not want to show me, his fingers danced along the thin ivory's that looked as if they were made for his fingers.

Tears gathered up in my eyes as the melody continued, the passion and the heart he put into each note continued to affect my heart as if these were my own feeling's being poured out. His mind and his past were being told through the piano he played.

As I wanted to hear more, wanted to know more... He stopped.

I wanted to know why, to ask if this was really the end as it didn't sound like it. But as I looked over towards the boy who had taught me to be tough and to never let anyone see you as weak, he had broken down beside me.

I didn't know what to do, I didn't like to see him cry... But something about it was comforting. Something about the way his tears skimmed down his cheek to drip down onto the back of his hands and the ivory's that await to be played once again made me feel relieved.

He was finally letting his pain out, and he was letting me see the other side of him that he hid deep within his heart. The broken teenager that just wanted to feel free and to feel happy once again. The boy who wanted to feel loved.