This was originally going to be a drabble, but 300 words later, I realized that there was no way I could do that. So, it's just a very short story. Anyway, it's sad, so be warned.
I do not, in any way or form, own Invader Zim, Gaz, Dib, Gaz's father, that muffin, a banana, the color blue, the color green, a giant squid, pie, or the moon. But I wish I did.
The house was empty. Dad was at the lab and Dib was off chasing Zim again.
All was quiet, and Gaz was alone. No one would be home anytime soon.
Gaz flicked the 'off' button on her GameSlave and stood up. She walked into the room that no one went into anymore. Not since the accident.
The door slid open soundlessly, the hinges oiled by Gaz countless times before so they wouldn't make a sound. She needed the silence when she went into the room. Gaz stepped into the small room and closed the door behind her.
Books, paper, and music filled the room in messy stacks. But Gaz hardly ever touched them. They were hers. And Gaz would never mess with her stuff.
But she did sit down at the baby grand piano in the middle of the small room. After all, she had told Gaz that she could play it whenever she wanted to.
Gaz ran her fingers silently over the dusty keys. It had been so long...
But she needed this right now.
And slowly, music filled the room.
It was a simple melody, soft and sweet with a hint of sorrow, and it gained strength as the song progressed. No one who knew Gaz would have ever thought she could play. But she could, just this one song.
It had been her favorite.
Gaz played until the sobs shook her arms too much for her to keep her fingers steady, and the music slowly died.
Just like she had.
Tears streamed down Gaz's face, but she was silent in her grief. The grief that she hid through lack of human interaction and violence and video games.
But she couldn't stay quiet for long.
Besides, there was no one around to hear her.
Gaz gasped through her tears and sobs. "I miss you!"
"I miss you so much!"
Her sobs racked her body, and she laid her head in her arms, those on top of the keys of the piano, slowly and carefully, so she wouldn't create a messy sound. No, the piano could never be used to make noise. Only music. Beautiful music.
That's what she had always told Gaz.
"Please!" Gaz cried. It was in vain, for there was no one around to hear her. There was never anyone anymore.
Not since the day that she had died.
"Mommy, please!"
But she was long gone, and no one had understood Gaz since. Gaz had no one.
She was alone.
And she cried. She cried as she did whenever she felt so alone that she couldn't stand it anymore and she ran to the music room.
Her music room.
Mom's music room.
Years ago, she had taught Gaz how to play that song.
And the song was the only thing Gaz had left of her.
No one understood.
And no one was ever there to hear her cry.