First Glance

From "Part One (of many)"

 She was not always called Treble, you know. Her name was Belinda, before I knew her.

It was New Years Eve, 1899, and as you could very well guess, I was busy. Nearly everyone was aware of my presence at their parties and in their thoughts, celebrating and cursing me for my swiftness. Singing songs in my honor and questioning my consistent methods. I feel most exhausted on these occasions because of the excitement and the despair of my existence.

Even I question my own authority at times.

As every year, and especially the significant "turn of the century", I felt completely insecure. Until I felt myself as I should be felt.

This is why I thank Heaven for musicians. They can stop me in my tracks, you know. 

I carried myself through the throng of people celebrating at 313 Robinswood Road. I followed my rhythm into the very back of the house and soared into the room directly above.

With her back to me, I saw a young girl in a red dress sitting on a bench in front of a gorgeous piano forte. She was bent over and her face was in her hands, but I remained steady in her mind.

That was when I dove. Into her head I went, desperately wanting to discover my use there. 

That was when I listened. I paused to hear myself at work for the first time in a long while.

Yes, I sometimes do pass by slowly in my own mind. I feel the strain too, you know.

But I listened. I was there. I was consistent. I was conducting a melody so sweet. My appreciation for this young girl swelled in my chest. For once, I was proud of the humans. 

This is what music does to me.

I tore myself away and left the young one's mind to itself. I was almost out of the room when all thoughts abruptly vanished from her head. She and I turned towards each other at the exact same moment. She was beautiful, the way her black hair melted when you gazed into her deep blue eyes. The red of her dress only added further to her physical perfection.

I could've sworn she saw me as I stopped. I started her heart again, and suddenly her eyes were green. But even as they changed, they remained unwavering.

I had to leave.

Leaping through the window behind me, I felt her gaze slowing me down. The melody started again. I regained my former speed and was forced to return to my duties all around the world on this New Years Eve, 1899.

 

Reviews

[Dana]

the narrator is actually Time himself, so that might help :)

[Melissa]

Interesting. I'm really curious about your narrator; at first I thought he/she was just a regular party-goer, but at the end, the reader now knows that the narrator isn't a human. Hmm, interesting! I'm curious. Since I don't know who the narrator is, I'm not too sure if this suggestion applies, but the part that says "desperately wanting to discover my use there" is a kind of a little awkward - it makes the narrator seem, to me, a little weird and crazy. And the "Until I felt myself as I should be felt" toward the beginning of the story is a little vague.

GOOD JOB! I really liked the way you described meeting the girl!