The Songs...

Cally is a seventeen year old girl, who lives with her mother in an apartment in New Jersey. Her father left them when she was fifteen, and Cally has been working as a waitress to support her mother and herself ever since. She loves music and books, but hasn't had the time or the money to keep pursuing these things. This story could go anywhere, but I'd like to keep it in the first person, unless you're switching points of view between characters, which could definitely be interesting, but it

   The cool breeze brushes my face as I walk down the sidewalk towards the old theatre that's across town from the shabby apartment my mother and I live in.  It seems to be falling apart at the seams, but it's still standing.  There hasn't been a show there in ages, so it's usually deserted, and I'm not expecting that to change.  

   I sneak around to the back entrance, thanking God that the door's not locked.  I'm gonna get caught, I think, knowing that the luck can't last much longer.  But that doesn't stop me.   I've never been the kind of person who lets something like that get in their way.  Inside the theatre, it's dusty and so dark you can hardly see,  so I find the switch for the house lights.  They still work. The luck hasn't run out yet.

   The grand piano is sitting exactly where I remembered, the same spot in front of the auditorium, next to the stage.  I can't believe they haven't moved it yet, but it makes me happier than I've been in almost forever.  It's still as beautiful as I remember, even if it is a little  out of tune.

   I check outside once more to make sure no one's around, then I weave through the aisles towards the piano.  I take a seat on the cold, hard bench and open it up, and I begin to play from memory.  It's been so long, but it feels like I had never stopped playing.

  I smile at the feel of the smooth black and white keys beneath my fingers.  The melody is bitter-sweet as the memories I've kept at bay for so long come flooding back.  I close my eyes and I'm sitting in the music room at our old house, my grandfather beside me, guiding me.  "Beautiful," he says smiling, as if I had mastered the most complicated piece ever written. "Just run those notes together a little more in that measure." 

  Tears fill my eyes and stream down my face as I come back to the present.  My world couldn't have been better than in that memory.  Too bad I didn't realize it then.  I end the song abruptly and get up to go, careful to leave everything as I'd found it. I can't stay any longer.  A voice comes from behind me as I'm pushing in the piano bench.

   "Hey, what do you think you're doing here?"  I turn around, startled, quickly wiping my eyes so as not to show my weakness.

   "I-I was just leaving," I say quietly, keeping my eyes lowered.  

   "Are you okay?" he says, realizing I've been crying.  I look up at him.  He's very tall compared to my five foot two frame.  Blue eyes, chesnut brown hair.  Fairly young too, maybe a year or two older than I am.  Good-looking.  I shake that thought off. 

   "I just came in to play the piano...I didn't think anyone would be around," I say, brushing my wild curly hair out of my face. 

  "I didn't ask you what you were doing," he says, gentling his tone. "I asked if you were okay.  You were crying."

   "No I wasn't," I mutter

   "Then why is your face all wet and blotchy?" He's cornered me. 

    "I'm fine, okay?" my self-defense mechanism has come out, "I have to go." I head for the doors.

    "You know you can come in here and play the piano anytime," he says coming up behind me.  "Just come through the front door and tell the guy in charge of renovations up there." 

    "Thanks," I mutter.  He reaches the door before me. 

    "What's your name?" he asks.

     I hesitate a moment, wondering if I can trust him. "Cally."  Trusting too much has gotten me in trouble before. 

     "I'm Will," he says, smiling and taking my hand, his hand practically engulfing mine.

    "Okay, well, I really have to go," I say reclaiming my hand and opening the door.

    "See you around, Cally."  I don't respond, afraid to make any commitment. 

    Outside, it's gotten cloudier, and I try not to think about what happened in the theatre.  I don't know if I'll be able to go back, but then again, I'm not sure if I want to stay away.

The End

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