Cynthia Rose {A Short Story}

Clunk went my fingers on the baby grand. I groaned inside. I was never going to get this right!

Mother sighed beside me. She had been sighing a lot lately during my lessons.

"Cynthia Rose." She dragged out each syllable as if it were a curse. And right now I felt like I was cursed. Or that my fingers were.

"Cynthia Rose. I have been patient and have tried to teach you how to play in the best possible way I know, but I have reached the conclusion that there is no hope."

I closed my eyes and put my face in my hands, resting my elbows against the keys. I was surprised when she didn't reprimand me on my position. She hated when I put my elbows on her piano.

This is not good. This is not good at all.

"You are simply just not cut out to be a pianist. I see that now."

Please don't say anymore. This is painful enough.

"I have turned every student I have taught into a praised musician, but when my own daughter takes a chance at the keys, she fails."

I feel tears welling up inside, but I force them back down. I will not let Mother see me cry.

Forcing a smile, she continued, "Let's take a break for today, shall we?"

Oh, no. When Mother told that to Bethany Ann last week, she never came back. Would my own mother kick me out too, just because I didn't live up to her expectation?

It was at the moment when I lost it.

"No, Mother, please! Don't give up on me! I can do it, really! I'll try harder! Just please don't - "

"Cynthia!"

I reluctantly stopped talking.

With tears in her eyes, she continued, "If you would still like to play - for God knows what reason - you can teach yourself. I - I can't take this anymore. I'm sorry."

With that, she fled from the room and I curled into a ball and broke into tears.

Several years later...

I gasped when I saw the house. It had been completely abandoned and left to rot. After we had left, no one else must have come to live in it.

The windows had been boarded up, and ivy freely climbed the walls. The front garden was overrun with weeds and the once-beautiful fountain lay broken in the middle.

The front door was open so I cautiously ventured inside, afraid of what I might see. But there wasn't much to look at. All the furniture and paintings on the walls had disappeared. The house was bare.

I wandered around the house, revisiting past memories. I walked past the bedroom I grew up in. The staircase my brothers used to slide down when no one was looking. The parlor where my mother would drink her afternoon tea and chat with old friends. The kitchen where I snuck food when I didn't like what was for supper.

And then, I came upon the dining room. The wooden table and chairs had long been gone, but the piano was still there. I stopped and stared at my mother's prized possession. How she would hate to see it now this dusty. It probably hasn't been played in years.

I slowly crossed over to it and sat down on the familiar wooden bench. And placing my fingers on the keys, I began to play an arpeggio. And this time, I played beautifully. The curse had been lifted.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is different than anything I've ever written. Sorry it's kind of depressing. What do you think?

Thanks for reading // Have a great day! :)