In the distance, the sky grew grey as storm clouds crouched low to the ground, hovering above the dirt ground. A girl, not far from the incoming swirl of rage remained still as the menace came prowling towards her. A memory, fleeting but not forgotten, swept at the edges of her mind.
A piano. My piano. The first time I ever played.
Growling, the wind rushed forwards, lifting the girl from the ground.
A folded page, rustling on the top of my piano. My fingers cut as I hastily tried to turn the page.
A crack, and her arm dangled by her side at an odd angle, a brick swept away with them covered in fresh blood.
My mother, before she grew sick. A soft hum that accompanied my music.
Her back hit the bark of a tree before it gave way, her body littered in cuts and bruises forming on all sides.
A concert. And there, there is my father holding a camera. The lights can be blinding.
And, with a smile towards the sky, the girl was flung outwards, back towards her home.
Shiny. Black. New. Mine.
Her remains lay among the littered pieces of a well-loved piano.
A piano. My piano. The first time I ever played.
Growling, the wind rushed forwards, lifting the girl from the ground.
A folded page, rustling on the top of my piano. My fingers cut as I hastily tried to turn the page.
A crack, and her arm dangled by her side at an odd angle, a brick swept away with them covered in fresh blood.
My mother, before she grew sick. A soft hum that accompanied my music.
Her back hit the bark of a tree before it gave way, her body littered in cuts and bruises forming on all sides.
A concert. And there, there is my father holding a camera. The lights can be blinding.
And, with a smile towards the sky, the girl was flung outwards, back towards her home.
Shiny. Black. New. Mine.
Her remains lay among the littered pieces of a well-loved piano.