Author's Note: When I say that Michelle is talking, I really mean her voice machine is speaking for her. Song is "Through Your Eyes" as sung by Leann Rimes.
(Michelle)
It was another hard day for me as I returned home from my daily practicing at the concert hall for my performance in four days. The concert was in memory of my mother who had passed away four years ago. She was one of the greatest singers of all time. But, to me, she was my mother, my role model, and my idol. She was what I wanted to be…a diva.
When she believed I was old enough to understand, she told me about the day of my birth. She had been so happy to have a daughter, a child of her own. Then, came the news from the doctors.
"Mrs. Kensington, I'm afraid we have bad news," one of them told her. Her eyes widened in the way that I believed mine did at times when I was worried.
"Well, what is it? Is she breathing correctly? Is there something else?" she asked frantically.
"No, her breathing is just fine, better than a normal baby's if you ask me," he replied as he tried to calm her down.
"That's good," my mother stated with a smile.
"It's her voice box. Somehow it wasn't fully developed and I'm afraid she won't be able to talk…ever," he informed her.
Instantly, my mother's dreams of the future shattered. She had told me that she planned on teaching me how to sing, but in one instant, that dream died. She asked,
"Is she deaf?"
"No, her speech impediment will no doubt make her hearing much better. She just won't be able to talk or even make a single noise from her throat, not even cry," he replied to her.
My mother told me all about how she tried to find a way to mend my voice box, but it was to no avail. Then, she told me that she had another thought cross her mind when I was four years old and tapping on the keys of her piano. It seemed apparent to her that I liked music even if I couldn't sing or talk, which was true anyways. And so she asked her own personal accompanist to teach me piano and any other instrument he knew how to play well enough.
It seemed to stick to me like glue. Playing piano was like breathing for me. If I didn't have my hands, I wouldn't be able to sound just as beautiful as my mother. This was why the orchestra asked me to play for them part time, not to mention the church wanting me to play for them on special occasions. Another reason was because I was my mother's daughter, and they expected a lot from me.
Sighing, I closed the back door behind me. Under my right arm were my easel, brushes, and paints. Opening the easel with difficulty since my shoulder still hadn't healed quite completely, I set it up with my paints on the side and a brush in my hand. A mental picture came to my mind as I closed my eyes and just thought about what I truly wanted to paint. Hearing a swooshing sound, I opened my eyes and saw the subject of my painting standing before me.
(Piccolo)
I had been doing plenty of thinking ever since I'd met Michelle. Mostly thinking while sitting on the roof of her house and meditating. I'd kept an eye on her recently because she was virtually alone in the house, and I had learned all of this by observation. When she told me that her cousin would be worried, she didn't mean when her cousin came home. It meant when she called on a strange phone with a TV attached to it. Go figure.
While I sat there, I listened to the music she made on a large instrument with many keys. The songs she played were so peaceful and beautiful; it nearly moved one to tears. Need I accent the 'nearly' part? I didn't think so.
Just then, she stopped playing after an hour and I heard the door open down below. Opening my eyes, I glanced down and saw her stride into the yard with some stuff under her right arm. Her left arm still wasn't quite healed, but the new splint on it was less crude than the one I made for her. It was only a matter of time before it would come off her shoulder. Seeing her sitting there with her long hair blowing in the breeze made me smile as I sat on the roof. Her hair was so long and beautiful as it shone in the sunlight.
Standing, I flew slowly to the ground just in front of her. She looked around the stand or whatever it was, and her eyes brightened as she smiled at me. To see her smile so warmly at me made me want to turn away from her as I stopped myself from blushing.
"How are you doing?" I asked her. She gave me almost a sly-looking smile as she tapped on something behind the stand where I couldn't see. Then, I heard a computerized female voice say,
"I'm fine, Piccolo. How are you?"
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, I uncrossed my arms and strode closer to her. Standing next to her, I saw the machine sitting in her lap. It looked like a small computer with two small speakers on either side of it. I looked at her for an explanation as I gruffly asked,
"What the heck is that?"
"It's how I speak. This was what I searched for in my bag the day you helped me," the voice answered for her.
It was strange and a little annoying talking to a machine, but I guessed it was better than not being able to communicate at all. I stared closer at it and frowned while shaking my head. Then, she asked,
"Would you rather I write everything down and wait for you to read it before I can write down the answer?"
No, that would just get too annoying. I had to admit that this machine was a smarter not to mention faster way to communicate. She was obviously accustomed to using it to talk for her. Nodding to her, she smiled at me again. As I looked at her again, I saw that she really wasn't as young as I thought she was. She looked more like a young woman, not a girl. Looking at me with those strange, yet pretty eyes of hers, she asked,
"How long have you been around my home?"
"A few days. I train in the valley near the forest where I found you, so it's not that far for me to travel here," I replied.
Nodding, Michelle seemed to be looking at me straight on with her eyes. Turning to the side so I could see her and the meadow at the same time, I waited until she stopped looking. I couldn't put my finger as to why I couldn't look in her eyes. They were odd, but beautiful as they seemed to stare right through you. It was a weird feeling whenever she stared at me with blank eyes.
I glanced over at her as she rose from her chair and asked,
"Would you like to come inside? I think it may rain."
Looking up in the sky, I saw dark clouds gathering overhead, and I wondered how she knew just then as I followed her inside the screened porch. She had gathered her things and set them down in a closet in the screened room before opening the door. No more than a few minutes after we stepped inside, I heard a loud roll of thunder, and buckets of rain poured onto the house.
Throwing the question out of my mind, I glanced around the room and saw many, many different instruments. Some were stringed…guitars, I think that's what Gohan called them. Others were much like the pipe thing she played before, and drums of all sorts hung on the walls or stood in corners. My eyes widened a little at this as I realized that she didn't just play these for the enjoyment of it.
After I removed my turban and cape (to be polite, no other reason), I saw in the center of the large room the large instrument that she played so diligently every day. No matter what, she had to play this thing, and it sounded very good even with mood change.
"That's my piano. My mother bought me that on my tenth birthday," Michelle's machine told me as she stood watching me gaze intently at the piano.
"You play it every day," I told her without taking my eyes off it.
"I have to because of the concert coming up in a few days," she said as she opened the lid covering the keys. Sitting on the bench in front of the piano, she flexed her fingers a little before playing a slow, mournful song. I had to close my eyes as I pictured in my mind what the song was saying.
(Michelle)
I was surprised and overjoyed by Piccolo's visit. I never expected to see him again, and so this was definitely a welcomed surprise. As I sat there at the bench now, playing for him, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him close his eyes. Usually, that's what good listeners do when they hear a piece and I smiled to myself. The song I played was called 'Vocalise', a popular piece among my audience and rather proper for my mother's memorial concert.
As I heard Piccolo sigh, I changed the song to Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' one of my favorite pieces. He seemed to drift as he listened to my fingers on the keys. Soon, I stopped altogether and turned to him, hoping that I hadn't upset him.
He glanced up at me as my brow furrowed with concern. Tilting his head a little, he asked,
"Why did you stop playing?"
"I thought it was upsetting you," I replied with a sigh.
Shaking his head 'no', Piccolo closed his eyes and smiled, saying,
"Never have I heard anything like this music. I thought only silence could bring me to true understanding and peace, but you've shown me that's wrong. Your music is very…how can I put this? Haunting, I guess is the word, yet serene."
Taken aback by his statement, I couldn't believe what he said. It was a rare compliment to receive that one actually achieved peace through one's playing. As he glanced around the room again, he turned to me, motioning towards the instruments, and asked,
"Do you know how to play all of these?"
Smiling at him, I answered,
"I know how, but not professionally."
"Which ones besides the piano do you play very well?" he asked gazing at me with those onyx eyes.
Rising from the bench, I went over to a corner and removed one of the cellos. Setting it between my legs, I sat back down on the bench facing the opposite way this time. Fingering it for a minute, I adjusted the strings making sure they were in tune before I slid my bow across the long, thick strings. Right now, I was making up the song I played as I went along, but it sounded fine to Piccolo as he closed his eyes once again. Even these notes sent chills through my spine.
Suddenly, a loud crash of thunder shook the house as I stopped for a second before sliding the bow. Then, I plucked the strings to make the cello sound like the rain outside. Piccolo didn't seem to notice when I stopped for that split second, so I just continued playing. Then, I ended the song with a smooth, slow slide across the strings.
Replacing the cello, I saw Piccolo standing and looking outside as his shoulders rose and fell heavily. The song seemed to remind him of something as far as I could tell, and I went and stood next to him. Hesitating slightly, I linked my arm through his, and we stood together. He glanced down at me with eyes that reminded me of my own and asked,
"Do you have any idea how your music affects others?"
Shaking my head 'no', I stared at him with concerned eyes once again as he continued. His voice was so low and smooth that I enjoyed hearing it. It reminded me of a waterfall, smooth and steady. It was very…alluring as I listened to him.
(Piccolo)
It was hard to hear some of the music that Michelle played so beautifully because it reminded me of the pain that I had been through in my life. The large stringed instrument she played somehow reminded me of something long ago, and I turned from her so she wouldn't see what I felt. It felt like the bow was going to the core of my being, yet I couldn't stop listening to the music.
Now, she had stopped and stood with our arms linked together and I turned to ask her,
"Do you have any idea how your music affects others?"
She shook her head 'no' to me, and it made me want to smile the way she seemed so innocent and unknowing of such things. I continued by saying,
"It's as though you play for a person's heart and life. I've never heard anything in my life like your music."
I closed my eyes as I tried to get my mind to focus on what was happening. What had this woman done to me? Her ways of communicating were so different and yet so…perfect in their own simple way. My heart wouldn't let me forget the music she played or the way her eyes seemed to stare into mine always. I finally understood why she had such an effect on me. She was like me, alone and perhaps misunderstood.
Then, she bent down to grab some paper on the table in front of where we stood and wrote something quickly before handing it to me. I read it. 'Will you come to the concert this Friday?' Looking down at her, I saw the plea in her green/brown eyes, and I closed my eyes before nodding my head. Of course I wanted to hear her play more.
I felt her soft hand upon the side of my face as I opened my eyes and looked at her as she smiled gently at me. She tilted her head up and kissed me with her soft, sweet lips. As I leaned down to her, my antennae brushed against her forehead softly, but she didn't seem to notice. The kiss seemed heightened by the storm as thunder rolled gently across the sky, and I brought my hand to her face.
(Michelle)
Piccolo's touch was so gentle and his hands so soft, much more than I expected. As our lips parted, he reached a hand towards my neck and touched it softly with his fingers. It reminded me of what I lacked from my mother. Tears came to my eyes as he said softly in my ear,
"Your music is yours and no one else's. It's just as beautiful as any singer's voice."
Hearing him say that made me smile as I leaned my head against his massive chest. My ear was right over the part where his heart beat strong and thunderous inside my head. His lips brushed the top of my head as he laid his chin against my head. My height was just right in order to stand under him with his head resting on mine.
I was glad to know that he would be at the concert even though I probably wouldn't see him in the actual audience. It was a comforting thought for me to know that he was there, watching and listening.
After the rain ceased, Piccolo released me, took his cape and turban, and strode outside. He turned back to look at me once more as I stood on the porch before he flew into the sky. My heart raced as I watched him go, and I remembered the kiss and him touching my neck. It made me close my eyes, longing to feel his touch again.
With a sigh, I knew I had to get back to practicing on the piano. Four days would go by fast especially when there's a performance. Playing on the piano, a tune entered my mind as I thought about it before writing down the notes on a blank sheet of staffs. I worked late into the night to get this song just right, and when I finally felt finished, I looked at the clock hanging on the wall. It was nearly twelve at night. My eyes widened as I rolled them back and sighed.
Then, stretching my right arm and then my left arm slightly, I rose from the bench and went upstairs into my large bedroom. Opening the door, I saw the bed looking so inviting that I didn't even bother to change clothes and flopped down on the soft comforter. I didn't even go to lock the balcony window; I was so tired that I fell asleep.
(Piccolo)
Even though I flew away from Michelle's house, I didn't go very far. I stopped in the valley where I usually trained and began my training at dusk. I had separated into two in order to start my endurance training. My twin had gotten the upper hand at first, but I easily overpowered him as I kicked and punched him to the ground.
When it drew close to midnight, I joined with him again to become one Piccolo. Panting hard from the past six straight hours of training, I went down to the river to get a drink. Cupping the water into my hands, I raised it to my lips and drank the sweet water. Somehow, it reminded me of Michelle and somewhere on the wind I smelled fruit blossoms.
Turning my head, I faced the direction of Michelle's home and wondered what she was doing. 'Probably already asleep,' I thought to myself as I hovered into the air to see her house. A light still shone bright in one of her windows, and I flew back to her home to see her one more time today.
Reaching the house within minutes, I saw the light still shining in the living room filled with instruments. There Michelle sat on the piano bench with her fingers playing over the keys. Then, she yawned and stretched her arms carefully before getting up, turning out the light, and going upstairs. I followed her to the balcony and saw her lying on the bed already asleep.
Smiling at her, I saw the balcony door was ajar and so landed on the balcony before opening the glass door. Seeing a blanket on the edge of the bed, I went over and pulled it over her to keep her warm. I brushed my fingers through her long hair again before kissing lightly on her head. The scent of fruit blossoms and spring water lingered in her hair as I backed away.
Closing the door behind me, I took my usual place on her roof to watch over her. I knew that she was something special. My heart let me know that was true for whenever I saw Michelle it would thump even louder. I couldn't help but smile at her when she smiled gently at me. Although it screamed, 'Stop this at once! You don't know what you're doing!' my heart ignored the thoughts in my mind. All I knew was that being with Michelle made me happy and content. And I also knew that I would protect her from anything that would threaten her life because…as hard as it was to admit…I believed that…I…I loved her.
(Michelle)
Four days passed quicker than usual, and Piccolo came by each day to listen to me play some songs for the performance and other pleasure music. I was always glad to see him because I felt he was the only one that really spoke with me. No one, beyond my cousin (occasionally) and my mother, ever spoke with me more than once in such a loving manner. Being around him made me feel totally at ease. Normally, he would stand near the window or lean against the door and listen while I played. I knew that he was watching over me, even though I couldn't always find him. I just knew he was there.
With good doctoring, my arm had completely healed by Thursday and the doctor came by to remove the splint from my shoulder. I rehearsed through all of my music before Piccolo came by that day. This was because normally, I played music I loved for him.
Tonight was the big night of the concert at the Ki-Lin Orchestra Hall where nearly every seat was filled. My agent and the hall owners were with me behind stage and patting me on the shoulder trying to help me relax. What they didn't know was that I was already relaxed. I just planned on playing as if there was no one in the audience except my mother. Or Piccolo. A smile crossed my face as I thought of him actually coming, even though I wasn't sure if he was.
I carried only my talking device and the new song I planned on playing at the end of the concert with me. All nine of the other pieces I had memorized. Most of them were classical works done by composers like Bach, Brahms, and Beethoven. However, I did have several pieces written by today's composers. I would mix these together, but the one I carried with me I would save for last. 'Always save your best for last,' my mother had always told me.
As the audience began clapping, I knew that the hall owner had walked out to the microphone and said,
"We welcome you to this night of special music performed for a wonderful woman by her magnificent daughter. Now, I present to you Miss Michelle Kensington!"
The audience clapped even louder as I strode onstage towards the large grand piano in the center. Stopping in front of the piano, I bowed to the audience and smiled at them as I looked around the hall full of people. Exhaling slowly, I took my place on the bench in front of the piano. Then, as the clapping died down, I entered my own world as I played my best, not just for my mother, but for another special person whom I hoped was there.
(Piccolo)
As I sat in the rafters directly above the piano, I looked down and saw Michelle at the piano. The music rose to the rafters, and I sighed with a contented smile on my face as I closed my eyes. Still there in the darkness behind my eyelids, I saw her. She wore a long, black dress with long loose sleeves. The dress hugged her upper body, but flowed down in a gracefully long skirt. Her long, dark blonde hair was tied into a braid that reached the lower part of her back.
Listening to her play, I felt all that I felt every other time that I heard her play. It was as though we each became lost in the musical notes. Somehow, during the third song, I concentrated to Michelle's mind and discovered that she was completely lost in the music. Not wanting to disturb her, I merely opened my eyes and watched her fingers dance across the ivory keys
After the ninth song, I saw her rise and type something on her talking machine and hold it to the microphone. It said for her,
"Ladies and gentlemen, I will now play a song that I composed myself for someone special in my life. It's called 'My Song for You'."
Raising an eye bone in curiosity, I had never heard her say this song title to me whenever I visited her home. She sat down once more at the bench and began a slow, mellow melody. Then, it seemed to heighten to a beautiful peak before settling down again. It was wonderful as I listened to it. As the music rose continuously, it made me close my eyes again as I pictured myself sitting there with her, holding her close.
(Michelle)
The finale was the song I wrote for Piccolo, and I played it with all my heart. My soul had been placed into that song, and I hoped it somehow reached his ears as my heart raced upon remembering the kiss we shared four days before. Gently ending the song, I removed my fingers from the keys to be greeted by an applause that seemed to echo through the roof.
Looking out over the audience, I saw every single person standing in front of their seat and clapping loud and hard for me. Smiling at them, I bowed in respect as many bouquets of flowers were tossed onto the stage. Roses, mums, carnations, irises, violets, and many more flowers graced my feet.
Finally after everyone stopped clapping and began making their way towards the exit doors, I looked at all the bouquets in amazement. Then, a single white lily dropped from above me into my hands. My eyes widened at this, and I looked up into the rafters expecting to see Piccolo. But, he was gone, if he was there. Smelling the lily, its scent was so fresh and beautiful, and I sighed in my contentment.
Rushing up the backstage stairs, I tried to search for Piccolo in the rafters in vain. I sighed again in defeat when I heard someone behind me. There he stood with a smile on his face as he stared at me. Striding over to him, he took me in his arms and held me close, saying,
"It was beautiful. Your mother would be proud."
Typing something into my machine, it said for me,
"The last song I wrote for you."
Smiling, Piccolo nodded letting me know that he knew while he was sitting up here in the rafters. Hearing his heart beat even louder, I sighed as my own heart seemed to match beat with his. His cape flew around me as the wind blew through the large, open window nearby. Holding me back, Piccolo said,
"They'll be looking for you downstairs."
"I know," my machine told him. Then, I gave him a gentle look of love and appreciation. As if he knew my inner question, Piccolo smiled and answered,
"Don't worry. I will see you again soon."
Then, he placed a finger underneath my chin and placed a kiss on my lips. It was soft and long as our eyes closed before we parted. Squeezing his hand, I felt him squeeze gently back as he departed through the window and took off into the night sky. As I watched him, I smiled as though in a dream. Only I knew this wasn't a dream because the feelings I had were far too real. I cared for him more than anything else on the Earth and I knew I loved him with all my heart, for he was the only one that I could see myself through his eyes.
Look at the sky
Tell me, what do you see?
Just close your eyes and describe it to me
The heavens are sparkling with starlight tonight
That's what I see through your eyes
I see the heavens
Each time that you smile
I hear your heartbeat just go on for miles
But suddenly I know why life is worthwhile
That's what I see through your eyes
Here in the night
I see the sun
Here in the dark
Our two hearts are one
It's out of our hands
We can't stop what we have begun
And love just took me by surprise
Looking through your eyes
I look at myself
And instead I see eyes
Whoever I am
Now, it feels like enough
And I see a girl who is learning to trust
That's what I see through your eyes
Here in the night
I see the sun
Here in the dark
Our two hearts are one
It's out of our hands
We can't stop what we have begun
And love just took me by surprise
Looking through your eyes
And there are some things we don't know
Sometimes our hearts just need to grow
And there is something we hold forever
Underneath the open sky
With you forever
Here in the night
I see the sun
Here in the dark
Our two hearts are one
It's out of our hands
We can't stop what we have begun
And love just took me by surprise
Looking through your eyes
Looking through your eyes