Today has been the worst. My father, who's ruined my life, shows up out of nowhere, and then some girls decide to pick a fight with me. Just because I'm younger than they are. I suppose, I could usually handle these stressors pretty well, but lately I've been unimaginably paranoid. I've spent more nights than usual lying awake, my mind racing with strange thoughts and days searching to see if someone is staring at me. I am almost sure I've seen someone following me here and there.
Usually, I would just drop whatever was bugging me and get over it, but I'm really stressing about whether or not one of my favorite afterschool activities has gotten me into a great deal of danger. It isn't something I do very often, but because of who my parents are, it is something that I've always had a bit of an affinity for. Ghost hunting has become more popular as of late, but it's still not something normal teenaged girls do in their free time.
Feeding negative energy makes it stronger, but sometimes it gets to a point where I just can't deal with it. Not without a little assistance, that is. So, it's time to play a little piano!
The hallway leading to the oldest music room is just as empty as usual. The tap of my school shoes echoes around me, sending small thrills down my spine. My gaze wanders to the empty rooms, not a soul to be found. Any of the school clubs that have to do with music avoid this third floor hallway like it's cursed. Part of it is they prefer the newer instruments and equipment. I personally like the older, rarely used room. I like my solitude. A smirk plays over my lips as I look at the door of the, "Forgotten Music Room." Because no one comes to the room, it's effectively been turned into one of the school's Seven Mysteries. I probably haven't helped the rumors by hiding when someone does a bravery test to see who's playing the supposedly haunted piano. I have plenty of time to hide as they giggle and shout on their way to the room.
Walking past a darkened room, I catch a glimpse of a ghostly figure, a smile firmly resting across my lips. I turn my full attention to my reflection and stop myself from laughing. My skin is so pale, it's almost translucent, a dark red mass of hair foams around my shoulders, somehow defying gravity while constantly in motion. If someone were to only catch the tiniest of glances of me, they would probably have a miniature heart attack.
I chuckle, turning to make my way towards the small room, the lack of people already bringing a smile to my face. Perhaps it's not nice, but I don't like people. They just get in the way, so if they think I'm a ghost and run away, I'm fine with that. A chuckle bubbles up my throat. Before the old school building collapsed, I had wandered around the second floor. At some point, I looked out one of the windows and a senior was staring back up at me. The look on her face was so funny I almost hurt myself laughing. Of course, after that the rumors intensified so much that the principal actually called in a group of paranormal investigators.
My arm stretches out, fingers hooking into the small groove to slide the door open. The room is plain, almost boring with several rows of desks and a piano in the corner. There's writing on the chalkboard that hadn't been there before.
'This room isn't scary.' It reads. I smile to myself as I walk over to the green board, pull out a small package of special chalk sticks that look like blood, and scribble a response just under the statement.
This'll keep them away for a while. If you let them get comfortable, they come more often and make the room unenjoyable.
Teeth sink into my lower lip as I try to stop the chuckles that quickly pop into my chest, then make my way over to the piano. Delicate fingertips run along the fallboard as I make my way closer to the window overlooking the track field. I give a quick glance out shows a group of boys timing girls as they run or leering as they stretch. I'm sure if one of the many students were to look up, they would see me for the shortest of moments and the rumors would start anew that the room is occupied by a being not of this world. My lip curls at the thought before I move between the bench and the piano, smoothing the skirt of my uniform as I carefully sit myself down.
For just a few moments, I wonder what it would be like to join a club, hang out with girls my age, act like a normal kid, and maybe make a few friends. Then, I remember that normal kids don't go ghost hunting. Though, some do try to prove that their schools are haunted. My gaze wanders to the chalkboard for a moment, mind wandering to my extracurricular activities. Everyone is always saying this school is filled with ghosts, but I've never come across one. As far as I know, the only supernatural things going on are the mysteries of being a teenager, perhaps some latent psychic powers. There's a girl somewhere in the school that insists that spirits from the war float around.
"What was that girl's name? Kuroda?" I ask myself aloud. One of my hands slips to the back of my neck, massaging the flesh that is suddenly prickling cold. Eyes wide, I stare at my hands as freezing air flows across my skin. I quickly twist, a frown distorting my features. I had hoped to catch whoever was breathing down my neck in the rarely used room, only to be shocked by the complete emptiness of the room.
I shrug, turning back to the beautiful instrument in front of me, slowly running my hands along the fallboard before lifting it up to run my finger pads against the ivory keys. With a quick press of a finger here and there I send a couple of notes vibrating notes through the room, and then I start playing scales. A play the scales a few times then carefully transition into a melody, slow and sad. When I reach the end of the melody, I start from the beginning, and sing along the notes, the words just as sad and depressing as the tones and notes that escape the wooden beast to fill the room.
My body sways in time to the percussion notes, leaning to the sides and closer to the keys. Soon the words become more and more melancholy, my breath escaping in small gasps. My heart breaks as the end of the song approaches. To emphasize the ending, I vocalize a harmony to the dying notes that fill the room. Silence slowly fills the room as the last note finally dies.
For a couple of minutes, I sit there breathing as deeply as my lungs will allow as the quiet of the room becomes deafening and a quiet ringing fills my ears. I carefully place the fallboard back in place, a small sigh passing my lips. My heart has come back down to a nice, even pace. It's much better than when I had first entered the room. I'm pretty sure there's nothing that can take me back into panic mode.
A smile spreads over my lips and I can feel my eyes glaze over slightly. I could almost handle going home and dealing with my mother for a few hours, maybe make sure she hasn't had so much to drink that she'll wind up a slurring slob of anger.
My eyes wander to the window to my left. The sky's turned into a brilliant shade of vermillion. I suppose the sun's about to start setting. It's strangely beautiful, almost too beautiful to handle. I know that not a lot of time has passed, but it feels like it's been hours since I entered the room. I'm so utterly lost in my thoughts that the sudden, slow and sharp sound of a clap literally fills me with instant terror. Someone's in the room and they're clapping. They had come into the room without my noticing them, listened to me playing and singing, and for some reason enjoyed it.