Wavering Melody

The slow, uncertain notes hung trembling in the air. Small, fat fingers slid over the smooth white keys and then bumped over the tall slim black ones. Two small feet sat hitched by their heels to the bottom rungs of a lacquered black stool large enough for two. Every so often one foot swung out quite wildly, as if escaping its cage. Then it would swing right back to the rung and right back out again. A dark mop of hair curtained a young face of porcelain features with a smooth silkiness. A set of two eyes placed perfectly on a smooth peach face lay half-lidded below two slim arching brows. Another shaky line of choppy notes rose into the air. A pair of pale lips parted now and then as if singing to a wordless song.

The boy was quite a sight, sitting there in his dated robes and expensive shoes, playing an unidentifiable song with discordant notes. He didn't really even like the piano, didn't really even know how to play. All he needed was a place to be. A place to sit and cry, and try to feel invisible. Just try to be lost in the strange chords of the piano.

The two stormy grey eyes were unfocused and wet, a disregarded drop leaking out every so often. The boy sniffled and wiped a small hand under his nose. He could have been at least six, maybe five.

He was not alone. There was another in the room. A tall, slender woman who looked quite young, maybe twenty-some. The woman wore the same dated robes as him. She pushed her dark black hair over her shoulder as she approached the boy and joined him on the smooth black bench. At her presence the boy physically cringed, and his hands became still. His leg swung out once and then stopped at the rung, caged. The last note quivered weakly into the air.

The woman seemed not to notice his change in behavior – that or she pretended she didn't. Instead she outstretched her hand and spread a set of long, tapered fingers over the keys. Immediately the boy snatched his hands of the instrument, putting them submissively sandwiched between his knees. The woman tested the keys, playing a few random ones, watching the boy's reaction.

He kept his eyes glued to the smooth white keys in front of him. Maybe a long time ago he would have looked up at the woman to marvel at her beauty – for back then he had thought she must have been the most beautiful woman in the world. He still thought so. But things had changed; now he didn't dare raise his eyes to meet hers – he was told he didn't deserve to look at anyone's eyes. He was told he wasn't worthy of it. Not the way he was.

She reached passed him a few times to get to the keys at the long end of the piano, and pretended not to notice him cringe each time her hand passed before his eyes. The fear that radiated from the small boy seemed to give her some sort of great sick pleasure, because she teased him more and more. Raising her hand to brush her hair from her face and having that hand come dangerously close to his head. Testing a key right in front of him for a long time before moving on to another key. Actually making physical contact with the boy by brushing a patch of dust from his shoulder.

The boy didn't know why she did things like that to him, but she did them all the time, and he felt so powerless to do anything. She loved taunting him. The more she continued, the more he tried to fight the urge to cry. He wanted her to stop.

The boy seemed to try very hard not to show his fear and at the same time try his hardest to show her he was being submissive to her. Whenever the woman moved her hand in front of him, his whole body would tense and he would watch the hand like it was a knife, bloody and ready to attack him – for he knew, that at any moment, any moment…

Finally she broke into a small little song that sounded eloquent yet brief. She ended the song at the far end of the piano, her elegant fingers stopped just before his eyes. He stared at them as if there was nothing and no one else there.

Suddenly the tapered fingers were gone from the piano and were instead on top of his head, laced in his hair and pulling his head back. His face was facing hers, and quickly he slid his light grey eyes to the side, but not before catching a glimpse at the woman. She was just as she had looked so long ago – except now she seemed happier. Happier and angrier at the same time. But at that moment in time he saw an almost curious expression masking her features.

Her large grey eyes had looked at him like he was some lab experiment she'd been testing on, and now the results were looking auspiciously positive. He had only seen the woman in one fleeting glance, but he realized even if he had gazed at that expression for hours he still would not understand it.

She suddenly reached out her other hand, and the boy felt the overwhelming urge to cringe, to jerk away. Instead he managed to control it enough so only his head flinched slightly. One long narrow finger touched his cheek and came back wet. She tilted her head at this and spoke:

"Let us fix that, shall we?"

At those small little words, the boy went crazy inside. No! He didn't want it again…please no…not another punishment. It had just been a few tears! Please, be generous…

But she was not. The woman stood and took him by the arm, leading him down the corridor to the very end of the elegant house where there was a door. His heart sped madly fast as they came closer. He could feel his heels subconsciously digging into the floor, trying to stop them getting any closer to the door. The woman turned to him upon feeling his struggle. He thought for sure she would be angry at him for resisting Punishment. But instead of a fuming scowl, he received an almost goading laugh and a smirk. She was laughing at him. Laughing at him resisting. She was laughing at him because she knew as well as he that he could not escape Punishment.

His heels stopped their attempt, and he followed her frightfully as she opened the door with a key she kept safe at her bosom and pushed him gently in first. He felt an overriding sense of fear, defeat, and humiliation creep deep into his heart as she closed the door. In his last moments of light he saw her face, illuminated by the pale candle light. A face full of sheer, sick delight. Then darkness swallowed him.

The boy's body tensed. In the darkness he could feel total powerlessness come over him.

end for now

Yeah, well, anyway the name is weird, I know. I wish I was good at making up titles, but I'm not :\

This is probably not going to be a stand alone. I might write more to it, it depends. But for now, this is all I have, so it is a oneshot.

Please tell me what you thought! Reviews are SO loved! Please tell me if you loved it, hated it, don't give shit, whatever - so I can make it better.

-Thanks

DogStar'n'LionHeart