She opened her eyes slowly and stretched her arms. She glanced at her bedside clock. Three o’clock. It was not even dawn yet. The room was cloaked in darkness, but for the first time in her brief nine years of life, she was not afraid. The most beautiful, heavenly music she had ever heard was calling out to her, inspiring a million wondrous thoughts. The music had lent her winged shoes and the weight of clouds, she felt a thrilling sense of hope as she imagined soaring high like an eagle, against the backdrop of an endless blue sky and gazing down majestically, high above the rest of the world.

Stealthily she tiptoed down the stairs. The music was enchanting, tantalizing her to get to its source. Not exactly certain of where she was going, she realised she had found her way the music room. She had not set foot in this room for nearly a year now, for Mama had always told her it was locked. To her surprise the door clicked open easily enough. She flipped on the switch and the light illuminated the features of the room.

The music room still looked exactly like how she remembered it. The grand piano, situated in the centre of the room, took up most of the space. Its rich mahogany cover still gleamed. Heavy red curtains draped the windows, obscuring distractions from the outside, worldly concerns. Sheet music, lyrics, chords and music books lined the shelves. Portraits of famous musicians hung on the walls, Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin and such. There was even one framed photograph of herself, aged seven, accepting the grand prize at a junior music festival instrumental competition. It had been the proudest day of her life, she remembered feeling a sweet sense of achievement, having beaten such ‘seasoned’ performers up to the age of twelve. She lifted up the cover of the piano, struggling a little under its weight. She sat down and touched the keys of ebony and ivory softly, feeling an old familiarity course through her entire body.

She had been called a musical prodigy, a God-gifted genius…showered with such compliments she never fully comprehended. Music was the only way she could connect with her own humanity, understand the great mysteries of life and be at peace with herself. The brevity, and yet haunting beauty of mortal life; the unattainable dreams tinged with unwavering hope…captured so well, and so poignantly by her skilled handling of her beloved piano. She had so much within her that she wished she could share with the world, yet she had always been awkward among crowds, stammering out all the wrong words, embarrassing even herself. Yet when she played the piano…how she could charm the audience, hinting at the elusive secrets she hid behind those captivating twinkling eyes, and the mature soul her youth belied.

Mama had discovered the girl’s talent, almost by accident actually. The girl had wandered off alone during a rare unguarded moment in an enormous supermarket, and there had been a few panic-stricken moments as Mama searched frantically for her four-year-old daughter. Eventually she was found, sitting at the piano on display, jerkily attempting to bang out a tune she had just heard on the radio in Mama’s car. From then onwards Mama realised her daughter’s gift. Yet the girl could not be trained, she failed miserably at music lessons where she simply could not read sheet music or play as she was instructed to. Instead, she could pick up tunes and melodies around her easily enough, and translate them into her own style, moving her fingers across the piano in such effortless grace, rare for even the most experienced of pianists.

Back in the present, the girl listened intently to the glorious music. She listened not only to its tune, its melody, its tempo, but she listened to the heart of the song, and felt its beauty to the very marrow of her bones. Smiling in content, she felt the music being transported from her soul to her fingertips, and her fingers began dancing across the piano. She had done so often enough, but this time her playing was even more soulful, more beautiful than ever before. She had not felt so alive in ever so long…

When she was eight years old, she had been involved in a life-changing accident, which robbed her of her aural abilities and her father’s life. She remembered how distraught she had been, scarred physically and emotionally, but Mama seemed to have taken in even harder than she did, as people with wounded loved ones were bound to. The people who had suffered directly would inevitably learn to accept their fate and make the best out of life…but the ones who had escaped unharmed, would always blame themselves and be plagued by demons of guilt. It was harder for them to accept others’ loss, for they did not have to be forced to face up to it…all they could do was to offer sympathies and silently feel remorse.

She reached the end of her song, her finger poised, on the last, heart-wrenching note. A smile of satisfaction crept across her face. There was music for the deaf, after all. Music of the soul.

Behind her she felt a presence, and she swiveled around. Her eyes full of joy, shock, disbelief, gratitude and a multitude of emotions, Mama was too choked up to speak. All she could do was to throw her arms around her daughter, enveloping her in a hug, and they both cried.