Thankfully, my night was dreamless. Sadly, I awoke barely 4 hours later.
4:50 a.m., the clock said in its dull robotic voice.
My CD player stopped hours ago. I take out Bach and put in Blink 182, this time getting lost in the guitar riffs and the voice of Tom Delonge and Mark Hoppus. It's an odd combination of my CD's. I have a little bit of every type of music actually. Philip says that when it comes to music I'm a complete schizophrenic.
A soft knock on the door brings my attention back from Travis Barkers drum solo.
"Jaylea?" Philips soft voice carries through the wood.
"Come in." I answer him quietly.
"I, uh, still can't sleep." He sounds embarrassed; his tired footsteps come over and sit next to me on my bed. I sit up against the wall.
"You want me to play for you?" When Philip was younger he was haunted with nightmares, only my playing could get him to sleep again.
"Please?"
"Sure." I saw stifling a yawn and reaching for my viola case. Taking it out, I get ready and attack the strings with my bow, careful as ever. I keep it peaceful, gentle and I drift into Philips lullaby that I created not long after I first started playing the viola. But you never really learn the viola though; it's such a tender instrument. You can make it sound like angels singing, but one small accident, the tiniest of mistakes, and it will screech and shriek the most horrific noise. I'm lucky Forks has a music program, the last two high schools didn't have anything with the viola it was all drums and guitars which I'm fine with but there's something about the viola that always called to me. At those high schools we had to pay for private teachings from a college professor who mom dated for awhile. He was a sleaze for trying to get with my mom but his playing was magical.
I keep playing even when I hear Philips soft snore next to me on the bed just for the hell of it. I got some practice in this morning, or yesterday morning before we left but every time I start to play it feels like the first time all over again.
Mom wanted me to try the violin like she learned but my heart just wasn't in it. To me, the viola seems like the wise old grandmother of the violin. Olga Goija is my idol. She's one of the best viola players there is.
My playing drifts away from his lullaby and into a piece I'd been practicing, Mozart viola quintet g minor. The mood of the piece is dark and melancholic, typical of Mozart's other G minor works. It doesn't sound as beautiful with just me playing, it's meant for two violins, two violas, and cello but I play it anyway adding the other musical instruments from memory in my mind. I swear I think I listen to this piece 40 times a day!
After this I build a bridge into a piece I wrote a few years back I call, Taste the Sky. It's a happy quick piece and I mess up a few times because sleep is starting to cloud my mind again.
By the time I'm done the clock says its, 6:22 a.m.
Lovely.
With a sigh I put my viola back in its case and place it gently on the wooden floor.
Philip is sprawled all around me, laying on his stomach, his arm draped across my lap his left leg hanging off the bed his right one laying in an uncomfortable fashion.
"Philip, come on." I tenderly shake his shoulder and he stands, half asleep with his eyes barely open. I lead him to his room and pull his comforter over him. "Night little 'bro." I caress his cheek for less than a second and walk out slowly.
In my room I take out the Blink 182 CD and put in Yiruma, permitting his piano to fill my mind not giving me any room to think about the coming Monday. I'm asleep right after my favorite of his, Kiss the Rain, ends.
The sudden warmth on my face wakens me, must be the sun light. Drat. What ever happened to near constant cover of rain and clouds?
I pull the quilt over my head but it's not enough. Yiruma is currently playing A River Flows in You, I try to imagine me playing it on my viola but my nostrils are filled with the smell of blueberry pancakes, my stomach growls. Ugh. Hunger.
I pretty much fall outta bed and trudge down the stairs, not bothering to turn off my CD player.
"Morning honey." Mom says, placing breakfast on the table. I follow the sound and reach out with my hand to grip a soft wooden chair. I sit cautiously, I'm always nervous that I'm about to fall on my butt whenever I sit down.
"Morning Mom." I say, reaching out in the direction the smell of muffins is coming from, my finger tip finds the cool surface of the bowl and traces up to the warm chocolate chip muffin. I nibble on this for awhile waiting on the pancakes.
I hear the squeak of Philips bed as he gets up, jeez these walls are thin, and his footsteps down the stairs. He takes a seat by me giving an incomprehensible greeting and grabs a muffin.
I hear a plate set before me and mom puts a fork in my hand. I set to work on making my pancake disappear, listening to Philip do the same.
"So, Jaylea," Mom says sitting by me and cutting her own pancake with a fork, "Forks High has a decent music program but they don't have a viola instructor so I called one of Port Angelus and he said you would have to audition but other than that he would love to teach you. Also, you could maybe start a job at Forks High teaching the viola like you did in Texas with the elementary school." Mom kept talking but I started to tone her out, silently in my mind playing Racing the Wind, a piece I wrote in 7th grade.
Philip I'm sure can see this on my face.
After breakfast Philip and mom went grocery shopping, I stayed home to practice. Mom almost made Philip stay home too so he could practice his piano but he went with her in the end.
I put in 4 hours of practice at the least everyday, but usually I play longer staying up way too late.
While playing I think about where me and my trusty viola will be going; Julliard, Concerts, Orchestra's. I don't wanna be a solo violist though, I belong in an orchestra where each instrument has to work together to form the most perfect harmony. If one instrument messes up it can ruin the entire fragile piece. I'm not usually shy, but my playing is apart of me. To let someone else see it, hear it, feel its presence flowing around them, makes me feel all too vulnerable. I've played solo's before, I've toughed it out but to my preference I want a whole group of fellow musicians to be there right beside me.
I'm just getting to my favorite part of Song of Praise when my peaceful serenity was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a sigh I gently place my viola on my bed and make my way to the door. I feel for the knob for awhile and open it.
"Hello?" I ask, I hate having to answer doors. I can't ever tell who's on the other side. I don't recognize their smell but it's definitely two people. A guy and girl. The guy smells like, well, a guy. The girl smells like strawberries.
Their silent. Oh! I forgot my glasses, the ones that are tinted so dark you can't see my gray, scary eyes. Well, too late now.
One of them clears their throat; the sound is deep and gruff. I think it came from the man. "Err, yes. Uh, I'm Charlie Swan and this is my daughter, Bella. We're your neighbors." He's speaking loudly, because he thinks I'm deaf too like everyone else. I actually have way better hearing than him. "We just wanted to come and welcome ya'll to Forks. Heard you were new."
"Oh, would you like to come in? I'm Jaylea by the way." I mutter wanting to slam the doors in their faces. Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I can't hear you! Stop trying to make me deaf too! "My mom and brother are out right now, it's just me." I step aside giving them room to come in.
I close the door behind them carefully, not wanting to give them anymore reason to think I'm an idiot.
I walk to the kitchen, maneuvering around Charlie and Bella with ease. "You want some muffins or something to drink? We don't really have much to eat; Mom and Philip, my little brother, are out getting some groceries."
"No thanks." Charlie's deep voice says.
"N-no thank you." Bella's voice is much higher than his, softer too. She stutters.
I hop up on the counter, bumping the back of my head against the cabinet slightly but I don't show any surprise or pain.
"So, are you going to Forks High?" Charlie asked being braver than Bella.
"Yup," I say and shrug. I really wish they would get out so I could go back to my viola.
"Bella will be going there too, she's a junior."
"I'm a senior." I respond automatically, my voice a monotone.
I hear someone, Bella I think, sigh.
"Uh, you're starting Monday right?" Charlie asks filling the awkward silence.
"Yup."
"Well Bella could give you a ride to the school if you want." Charlie says, and Bella gasps. Well, apparently someone didn't ask there daughter if that was okay.
"S' okay, I was just gonna walk with Philip. He'll be a freshman."
"Bella can give him a ride too then if it's alright with ya'll mom." Jeez, this guy just won't budge.
"No really I need to get used to the town."
"DJ, we're back!" Mom calls, sounding surprised that she couldn't hear my viola.
"In here." I say.
"Oh! Hey there." Mom says walking towards me and placing some groceries that must be in plastic bags next to me. "Off the table DJ." I hop down and lean against it instead.
"Mom this is Charlie and Bella Swan; they're our neighbors. Bella's gonna be a new kid at Forks High too." I say yawning. I really need to get some decent sleep tonight.
"Hello, I'm Jen and this is Philip." I hear Philips footsteps trudging inside; his arms must be full of groceries with the way he's walking.
"Hey." Philip mutters putting groceries on the table.
"So, uh, Bella here just got a new truck, she's be happy to give your kids a ride to and from school." Charlie says. I glare in the direction his voice came from.
"Well that's very nice of you Bella. Thank you so much, Jaylea and Philip say thanks."
"Thanks," we mumble quietly, I can almost picture an annoyed glare on his face matching mine.
"Well alright, so tomorrow morning Bella will be here to give ya'll a lift to school." Charlie says. I wish he'd shut the hell up. I don't need his darling daughter's help nor do I want it.
I sigh and Charlie says something about getting home to dinner or whatever but of course mom has to say, "Oh, you can just stay here for dinner if you'd like. It's the least I can do. I'll make some chocolate fudge cake too for desert." No one can resist moms chocolate fudge cake, I mean even the name sounds good. Charlie, to my unhappiness, graciously says yes and now here I am. In my room with Bella Swan talking about … nothing. What are we supposed to say to each other?
I've never been good at making friend. Ever. That's why moving around so much is so easy for me. Its harder for Philip, people can't resist loving him. They deal with me.
"So, where are you moving from?" Bella asks in a small voice. At least she isn't trying to break my ear drums like her dad.
"Oregon, and before that California. I've lived in a lot of places." I say with a slight shrug. "What 'bout you?"
"Phoenix. I lived with my mom."
"Yeah I lived in Phoenix. That lasted about half a year before we moved again."
"Why do you move around so much?" She sounded as bored as I felt.
I shrug again. "Don't know. Lots of reasons I guess. This timed we moved because I got suspended from school and my mom lost her job." I don't really wanna go into detail about how my mom thinks that the solution to every problem is run away; find a new town, new job, new faces, and new voices. "So what's your dads' job?"
She paused but then sounded like she just now noticed something; I wish I could see her facial expression right now. "Oh! He's, um, chief of police."
I nod pretending to ponder over that when I was really praying that she would leave so I could practice some. Finally, my patience all but vanished. "I'm gonna practice my viola okay." It wasn't a question but still she answered.
"Yeah that's fine." And then she fell silent again but I knew she was still there.
I ignored her presence, pretended not to smell her strawberry shampoo or hear her breathing, as I started playing. It would be easier to play in front of people if I could see their reaction. Or at least that's what I tell myself.
I start playing my own piece, Raining Tears, which is actually very sad. I wrote this my sophomore year when dad died.
I hear Philip practicing his piano downstairs. I recognize one of my favorites from Chopin but I block it out. Now, there is nothing but me and viola. We are alone in our own world where there is no moving around, dead fathers, annoying neighbors, new schools, constant darkness, Mondays, loud rain, or skipping CD players.
When I've finished the piece Bella says in her shy little voice, "Wow that was … beautiful Jaylea. That was really … don't get offended but it was also really … sad." Her voice is guarded waiting for me to lash out. Damn this girl needs some backbone.
I smile encouragingly. "Thanks, do you play any instruments?"
"I took some piano lessons when I was a kid but no, not really."
"Well, I've been thinking about giving some viola lessons to earn some cash. You interested?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Thanks, but no thanks." She says with an awkward laugh.
I smell dinner, the spaghetti being set on our table. "C'mon. Dinners ready." I say getting up after putting my viola back in its case. Slowly walking down the stairs I find our spaghetti finished and waiting. Philips still playing his piano, I recognize Mozart and smile to myself taking my seat.
Everyone in my family is a musician, moms a violinist, I'm a violist, Philips a pianist, and dad was a guitarist and he played the flute too. I used to have an Aunt Shelly, moms sister, but she died when I was 11 from lung cancer. She was a cellist.
Mom makes Philip come and eat and we're all quiet, it's just the sound of breathing and the scrape of forks on plates with the occasional drink from some water or coke.
I take a sip of water.
Well, this is uncomfortable.
The dinner thankfully doesn't last long and Charlie and mom are in the living room eating some of her chocolate fudge cake. Bella and I go back up to my room. Philip goes back to his piano to start back where he left off.
"Will you play some more?" Bella suddenly blurts out as I close the door.
"Err, sure." I get my viola and start playing Streaming Lights which is actually the piece my last instructor, Mr. Young, taught me and it's by far the most complicated piece I've ever played. I practice the piece the most 'cause it's the hardest and I'm pretty determined to master it.
The piece starts out slow but it builds up into an explosion of music. It's a high piece, and very quick. Mom thinks it's happy, Philip always thought is was sad, I always found it to be exhilarating. Mr. Young always said he found it to be very peaceful.
The piece is about 5 minutes long and I mess up a few times but I don't stop. "What'd you think?" I ask.
"It was very thrilling. I loved it." Bella's voice is sincere so I start to play Pendericki's concerto.
When I'm finished with this I stop for a second.
"You're really good. I mean, you should, like, go to Julliard or something." Bella's voice is still sincere.
"Thanks, that's the plan actually- Julliard."
We spend the rest of the night with me playing, her listening, and Philip down stairs playing his own instrument.
After two hours or so Charlie and Bella leave and I take another hour to play Hopeful Thinking, a submissive piece I wrote with the help of an old instructor, Miss Uptown and a few other passive pieces to help calm my nerves, before I go to take a shower.
My muscles feel so taut with the knife of tomorrow hanging over my head; the hot water helps some.
I climb into bed; hair still wet hanging down to the small of my back. I've often wondered what color my hair was…
Chp. 3 will be coming up soon. Thanks for the reviews I got so far, keep 'em coming! :)