[Author's Note: Yes, this is my first story to be published, but I do not want that to be an excuse for any poor writing that may occur. I started this story years ago, with just a beginning. Now that I have stumbled upon it again I want to continue with it to see what I can do with it. If you have any suggestions for the plot (I have no idea where I am going yet) then feel free to let me know.]
Drip. Drip. The first two lonely drops fell to the cold ground of the night. A flash of lightning followed by thunder came soon after, alerting all that a storm was coming. Serena didn't need the announcement. By the second drop she had been wide awake and standing by her door, far enough from the window to have to squint to see the rain, yet still not far enough away.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself. At twenty one years of age she shouldn't be afraid of a thunderstorm, yet she was. She turned out of the open bedroom door and skirted along the edges of the hall. "There has to be something that will calm me down." In truth there were two very warm things that would calm her down, but she didn't know where they were. Now that she thought of it, she didn't know which continent he was even living on. It didn't matter now as she mindlessly walked through the hallways.
Her new house had many things in it, but she didn't know of any of them. She had only inherited the house a week ago, from her dear mother, may she rest in peace. Her step-father had wanted to make sure that her mother had everything that she wanted while she was alive, which conveniently for Serena was very similar to what she liked as well. The halls were dotted with a few paintings, copies of famous works. A tapestry hung in the living room and in the dining room. There was even a library, in which were a few books that Serena had skimmed through in high school, many more that she knew she would probably never read but would never get rid of. She hadn't taken the time yet to go through any of it, the only thing she had touched was the piano.
As she thought of it now it seemed a good enough solution, the notes would make her focus, and the sound would drown out the noise of the rain outside. Biting her bottom lip for a moment she recalled how to get to the library, in the center of which the piano rested. With a few turns she came to the room and opened the creaking door slowly. She shuttered as a flash of lightning lit the room and she searched the wall to find the light switch. She blew a sigh of relief and turned to the piano, leaving the door open behind her. The smell of everything in the room was wonderful; the oldness of it all comforted her as she sat down on the bench before the gleaming keys. Everything in the room had seen dozens of thunderstorms before she had even been born and it comforted her slightly, for reasons she didn't know.
Her small fingers touched the keys, lightly pushing them down in a row before she looked to the open sheet music that had been resting on the top of the piano. 'Piano Sonata No.14' it read. She had heard it before but she didn't know where from. When she looked to the small black notes printed onto the page she recognized them and her fingers shifted to their places on the white keys.
The room seemed to come alive as her fingers continued their dainty dance over the keys. Eyelids draping softly closed as the notes poured from her memory just as they had once poured from his. How many times had he played the song for her after they had fought, further more how many times had he never been able to finish? The song became a strange solace to her. In a world of torment, where everything was uncertain, and he wasn't there, a song she had never attempted to memorize, the memory of the man she wanted to forget was all that could comfort her. As she neared the end a small smile crept onto her lips, it felt as if his arms were wrapped around her, curling about her waist easily with their length. Just as softly as they had touched the keys her fingers lifted. Yet, the song continued to play.
