I Can Still Hear the Music

I Can Still Hear the Music

A Story by Julia

Just a little something i whipped up in 20 minutes of my leisure.

I can still hear the music, if I try really hard. I remember when I was only 4 years old. I was wearing an itchy red dress because I had to look pretty. I remember holding my mother’s hand and getting lost in a sea of people. There were lots of high heels and I was afraid of them stepping on me. When we made it to our seats, I looked out and saw a huge stage. At first it was freighting. What were they going to do to us, all the innocent people? Did no one see what I saw? A big stage with people in special clothes with special toys stood in front. I closed my eyes and squeezed my mother’s hand as tears fell down my cheeks. I remember that fear as clear as day. Because I remember it melting away, like the ice cubes melted in my water this morning, as soon as I heard the music. I opened one eye cautiously and looked out and listened. My mother whispered in my ear, piano, and I turned the word over and over in my mind while I looked in awe at what was in front of me. Notes swirled around my ears and made a pretty bow around my waist. I closed my eyes and just listened. Then there were voices, not like my mom singing in the shower, but something magical. The voices sung in notes high and low all the way to the ceiling, around the huge chandelier and back down to the floor. That night, as my eyes closed on the way home, I told my mother I wanted to play piano and sing. I wanted to create those pretty noises and felt so inspired. The next day I sat on my bed and tried to mimic the notes, disappointed when they didn’t sound the same. But I did learn to play the piano. In fact, up until the accident I wasn’t that bad. But since, I haven’t had the heart to play. Now I lie in my bed and stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember the sounds. I shut my eyes tight let the notes play in my head and I trying remember. A few months ago, there was a car crash. My father’s arm was bloody and cut up. My mother had a fat lip. The sirens roared in my head, the cries of my mother as she reached out for me. Those noises echoed through my head for days. They were the last noises I heard. I woke up in the hospital with a young nurse in white standing over me. Her lips moved but I couldn’t hear. I leaned forward and screamed at her to speak up, speak up! I wanted so badly to hear her. She wrote something down and placed it on my lap. I wanted to shake her to stop the words from coming from her mouth, the words I could no longer hear. I screamed until I had no throat. The music was lost inside my head. I re-played it again and again so I would never lose it. As I lay here now, the notes are softer, the feeling dimmer. I play the notes again and again so I will never forget.

© 2010 Julia

Author's Note

a little rough draft.

My Review

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It's so tragic. You can convey such a feeling. You can't start a sentence with because unless it is in the form of a complex sentence. Still such a feeling of madness to be without the thing you love the most.

Posted 12 Years Ago

Wow this is excellent. You conveyed a lot of feeling in this piece. It makes you feel connected to your character and even feel hurt when she wakes up in the hospital. Good work.

Posted 13 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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2 Reviews
Added on March 3, 2010
Last Updated on March 3, 2010
Tags: music, deaf, youth, teenager, notes, ears, lose, memories



New York, NY

Closet writer. Young. Cynical. Intelligent. Blunt. more..

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