I don't know where exactly this fits, but it's one of my most favorite pieces I've written. Oneshot for now unless I figure out how to make a plot around it. Mostly for feeling purposes, really.
I have a link on my profile of a piano piece you could put into this story.
The music floating out of the grand piano saturated the air around him. It was soft and dreamy, imprinted in his ears; fast and slow, weaving from his fingertips. Up and down, the pitch tossed like the current he still dreamed about sometimes. He tasted the sweetness of peace on his tongue and saw the calm of black behind his closed eyes. The melody spun around him like a silk, making a story of its own. It was smooth and airy, and lightly brushed everyday thoughts and worries away. The slow symphony started to die down, before it was deafeningly silent.
He rested his head down on the keys gently, for the loud crash of confused keys always made him flinch. His limp hands hung down below the piano started to twitch. Raising his head back up, he watched as his long fingers traced over the middle key, about to play. His fingers always led him, almost more than his emotions, and he waited to see what song would come out next.
The cherry-stained wood vibrated around him. Music convulsed around him, turning into black twisted shapes. It was depressing and gray and clouded his vision; it left a stale taste of metal on his tongue and burned his ears. His mind raced a mile a second with each deep note that gently crashed into him. Yet, he couldn't get enough. The song played over and over in his head, and his fingers followed suit. It swirled clouds around him and he breathed in the refreshing wetness. Notes rained around him.
Black, suffocating clouds shrouded his insides in shadows and his wounded spirit thrashed. It tore at him like an animal, and he didn't know how to stop it anymore. Roaring filled his ears and he couldn't hear the distorted shrieks coming from his hands.
The music twisting around him stopped mid-key. It froze above him, a dense cover blocking everything from his weak eyes. His previously controlling hands were clenched in his hair and he hunched over the ivory and ebony stakes. His eyes were squeezed shut, but it didn't block out the horrifying grays snaking into his head like slime, slow and thick; it took over what little vision he had left inside of him.
A choked gasp pushed the dying notes away and bled into the silence. The same quietness cried in his ears where the roaring had been not seconds ago; it screamed like the monsters that crawled around him. His body trembled and acid built up behind his closed lids, but he fought it back, fearing the monsters' purrs.
His hands rose up in fists above his head, but he couldn't bring them to crush one of the untouched things he knew. The tendons shone as white as the ebony beneath him. In a blurring motion, one fist shot out to the wall next him and crushed into it; the other slapped down on the old wooden bench. He heard a crunch as his knuckles popped painfully and felt a hot wetness sticking his hand to the wall. His eyes slowly slid open and he took a small breath before looking at the red smeared wall. He stood up, having found no more damage for himself in this room, and cradled his bloody hand against his stained shirt.
He took a couple deep breaths, his heart rate slowing back towards a normal pace. The shadows were slowly receding until they cowered just at the edge of his vision. With one last shuddering glance at the torture-filled instrument, he strode swiftly out the thick door.
The room echoed with the click of the lock.
It was empty, but filled with ghosts. Ghosts and skeletons of the past that may never fade. The windowless walls were shrouded in fewer shadows than the mind holds.
Thick, wine-red liquid dripped in small beads down the wall, accompanied with different shades of cracked, brown stains around it.
Review pretty please? Don't say it sucked, I don't need to know :)
NewResolution
-Kelsey