AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Only reason I know it’s in tune is because I know Waylon comes down here sometimes. He doesn’t play it when I’m around, but I know he uses it when he’s trying to get a feel for a song that he’s struggling with on the drums.
He doesn’t feel compelled to write as much as Shawn and I do. At least, as far as I know. But occasionally, the mood will strike him, and he’ll lock himself in here, rather than go off with his guitar somewhere.
Spreading my hands over the keys, I lightly curl my fingers, being careful not to add any pressure just yet.
My foot finds the peddle, and my muscles instantly start to relax at the same time my posture straightens, my body remembering exactly what to do, despite it having been over three years now.
Three years…
My finger twitches, and just like that I’m playing piano again. Just one long drawn out low C, that resounds deeply in the small enclosure.
My eyes fall shut, and I hang my head.
“Iz.”
Her name cracks out of me, and emotion clogs my throat.
The note fades, and it’s quiet once more. Nothing but my shaky breaths to be heard.
I inhale deeply, and let my fingers find their way across the keys, and next thing I know, a soft, sad melody fills the room. It’s not one I’ve played on piano before, but I have played it on guitar. It’s the one Shawn started over a year ago, the very first one we collaborated on.
I’m rusty as hell, and it takes me a second to transition from playing the chords on guitar to piano. When I screw up, I go back to the start—I can’t help it. Old habits are hard to break.
Under my breath, I sing the lyrics we wrote—Shawn and I, and eventually Waylon contributed too.
“You’ve cast me into an indifferent sea, where passing ships are the memories…” my voice trails off, bleeding into more humming.
Tipping my head back, I tap the peddles, and sway with the music pouring out of me. My face bunches, and the lyrics take shape once more as I belt into the room.
“How did we get to the point, where we’re swimming from what will save us? Oh, how did we get this far, how did we get this far…trading tear-soaked prayers for resignation. And spilled blood for absolution.”
My fingers fly over the keys, and it doesn’t even occur to me when I fall flat. This time, something gives inside my head, and I just keep going, surrendering to the words clawing their way from my lungs, and the melody crying out from my fingertips.
I’m vaguely aware of sweat building around my hairline, trickling down my temples and neck.
I don’t know how long I play and belt it out, working through songs I know—ones that belong to me, and some that don’t, some that just feel right…as if they plucked each thought and emotion from my mind.
Art breeding more art.
That’s how I see it.
I let it feed my muse, and summon forth tangles of words I try to match to the melodies taking shape and giving way beneath my fingers.
Normally, I’d start and stall over and over again—jot shit down, go back, rework. Lather, rinse, repeat.
But tonight…
Tonight, I don’t.
Tonight, I do what Izzy’s always done. Imagining she’s here, with me, guiding my fingers, mingling her sorrow with mine, filtering my lungs. Telling me, It’s okay, it’s okay now, let it out, just for tonight, be with me.
I give into the current rushing through me, mindless of where it might take me. Mindless of the jagged rocks and riptides that snag at me, dragging me under.
And I go willingly.
Leave it up to fate’s hand.
Until I’m wrung dry by the music—by the storm of emotions I’ve spent so long running from.
