The room stood still; years of collected dust rested in soft piles over the floor. There were no doors, only silence. A solitary piano sat in the dark room. Unlike the desolate setting surrounding the petite instrument, the keys still shown in all their ivory glory. Not a single dust bunny could be seen resting on the bright white-painted surface of the exquisite walnut legs, strong mahogany pedal lyres, and majestic hard maple surface. To glance at the baby grand was to fall in love; it simply begged to be played.
Out from the shadows a figure appeared, for he seemed to have arisen from the night itself. His stride was long and graceful; he glided to the small cloud-like bench. Cloaked in shadow, his long fingers began to compose soft, longing tunes. Yearning for the outside world or, at least, what he imagined. He had never known anything except the darkened cell.
If the man could make expressions he would have smiled at the past memory now drifting through his thoughts. He was alone. Time seemed to pass slowly and quickly all at the same time as he sat in his room: his tomb. The only solace he found was in the glistening sun that he could see from the single square window protruding from the high ceiling. Although the space was so tiny the sun could not offer much light, he always felt a little warmer as he watched it pass by. Waving to the sun brought him peace. The man believed the piano had been a gift from the sun as a symbol of their friendship. At first, the white box-like object had been frightening to him. Upon finally gathering the courage to touch the cool ivory keys the notes emitted from them had caused him to jump back, pressing himself against the wall again staring at the source of the noise. He had never heard something so clear before. He began to play multiple keys, forming little melodies. Overtime the magic of music consumed him as he composed song after gorgeous song, dedicating them all to his beloved.
Years went by, and thorny fingers crept along the edges of the window. At first, the shadowy creature ignored them. Nothing could keep him from his friend, even as the woody appendages webbed out to create a netting over the light. He continued composing, showering his hope with adoration. The more he stooped over his baby grand, the less he looked at the branches. However, time slowed to a crawl, and soon the brambles thickened to only allow a sparse amount of his treasured sun's rays in. The bony man began to grow impatient with the twigs adorning his window. He shook his fists at them, rage radiating off his body in waves. How could some weedy plant come along and take over his sun's space? It was preposterous to the faceless man; the very idea caused his insides to churn with hatred. Running over to a corner of this prison he pummeled his fists against the black stone wall, hoping to shake the limbs free from his beloved's space. The faceless man kicked at the rock; he pushed with all his might, yet he accomplished nothing but exhaustion.
The shadowy man paced his hollow cell fuming. Steadily, he eyed the ever-growing mass of foliage and wondered what he could do to make it go away. Leaves had overtaken the webbing mass of wood: only spots of light shone through now. He stalked over to his baby grand, taking the keys under his death-like fingers so he could compose a piece most persuasive for the branches. Cajoling tones flowed through the room, reaching up to the thorns with outstretched measures. Pleading stanzas combined with desperate notes, yet still the monstrosity remained. Days went by, yet still he played. He played until the last speck of sun's rays faded away.
Completely encased in black, the faceless man could not stop the tears as they slid down his nightmarish body. They flowed from glowing orbs devoid of iris or pupil. Two stark white, perfect circles enveloped in darkness. How he wished he could gaze upon his friend once more. The music sang to him: mirroring his sorrow. Even the appearance of the baby grand began to change, darkening and starting to dull. Dust began to congregate about the legs and lyres. The once happy keys now took on a depressed disposition. The days seemed to be enveloped in an everlasting night. Thus, his music became one of an agonized searching for his beloved. The notes did not hold the joy they once displayed, nor did past compositions retain their happy lilt. He was alone.
After what seemed like an eternity the thorny plant still clung to his pitiful window. The man begrudgingly submit to his fate as it appeared he would never again behold the wonders of his sun. Days droned on. The shadow creature understood his hopeless predicament, yet he could not stop himself from playing the cool ivory tunes. And so he stayed, accepting that his sun was gone. Weaving beautiful melodies wrought with longing for what once was, and the happy nostalgia he found in his memories, the faceless man allowed the music to once again consume him.
It was in this state of grief that the man found himself when the first leaf fell. It fluttered down into his cell as if it had wings, lightly caressing the baby grand's top with its veiny red fingers. At first the nightmarish figure did not even notice his guest, for he was too busy contemplating the lost days with his friend. Turning ever so slightly, his well-adjusted vision noticed the small treasure resting on his present. He cautiously approached the foliage and plucked the small leaf off its seat. It crinkled as he twisted it slowly, mimicking a perfect pirouette.
In his mind's eye, the Faceless Man smiled.
THE END
Good Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you all enjoyed my short story. It was created as a way to help people process grief, and remind those struggling that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel (as cliche as that may sound).
God Bless and I hope you all have a great day!