Let me run through a field in the night.
Let me lift from the ground,
'til my soul is in flight.
Thirteen-year old Elizabeth Bennet closed her eyes as her favorite sound washed over her. Her mother, Josephine Bennet sat at the piano bench, playing and singing Elizabeth's favorite.
Let me sway like the shade of a tree.
Let me swirl like a cloud in a storm on the sea.
Elizabeth leaned against her father's chest content— just listening. She was always content to just listen to her mother play. The only thing that made her happier was when her mother invited Elizabeth to play alongside her.
While Elizabeth was young—still learning and developing her skills, she was already an incredible pianist. Following in her mother's footsteps, her father would say.
Since Elizabeth was old enough to climb up onto the piano bench, she and her mother would practice for hours—perfecting Elizabeth's abilities. Every day, Elizabeth would arrive home from school and practice—often sacrificing her homework time, much to her father's chagrin. But it paid off.
As Elizabeth grew, so did her skills. Her long, slender fingers—inherited from her mother, of course—moved across the ivory keys with incredible speed, producing the sweetest music.
Art schools and talent agents were constantly reaching out to James Bennet; asking, begging for Elizabeth to do something further with her talent. But neither James nor Josephine wished to bring that upon their sweet, talented daughter.
When she's older, she can do what she wishes with her music. She can play at Carnegie hall or on some street corner, for all I care. As long as she's happy. James used to say of his daughter.
Wish me on my way.
Elizabeth sang along with her mother, harmonizing perfectly.
Through the dawning day.
Josephine smiled as her beautiful daughter continued to sing with her. The three rejoiced in each other's company that final night, but they had no idea of the coming tragedy that would tear them apart.