A Saxophonist's Love

For once, the band room was silent. She silently played with her neckstrap, the only noise in the room was the whistling of the wind against the unlocked outside door. Even the clarinetist was silent. Not one note was played and not one sound was made by the students. It was quiet to a point it was eerie. She glanced beside her at his empty seat. He was gone and wasn't coming back. Everyone in the band knew it. They all resented the trip and the emptiness and the silence drove them insane. It just didn't feel right anymore. Nothing had. She couldn't being herself to terms with reality. She put her saxophone beside her and stared at his empty seat. She again felt the tears sting at her eyes. She hastily wiped them away. A small voice spoke in her mind. His.
'Can you hear me now?'
'No.'
She put her head on her stand. She felt a hand rest on her back and then the tears came. Silent. Her shoulders shook. She'd always thought about him; thought she just seriously liked him. Now, she knew she was wrong. She'd always loved him, ever since they met. It was always him. She just wished she'd told him sooner. Maybe the pain would be numbed only slightly. She shook her head. No, the pain would nevedr leave. She knew he'd always be in her thoughts. She was the first to speak in the hour.
"How could this happen?"
At once, the spell shattered. Nobody had the answer, and people began to really understand. He wasn't coming back. He never would. He couldn't.
She felt his presence and knew, deep in her heart, that even if he was gone in being, he wasn't gone completely, for he'd always known a saxophonist's love, and thus he'd never truly leave them, as he resided in their memories and in her heart.
Fin