The Piano

By Caitlin Clawson

I lay on my bed sobbing. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. The night was quiet, no crickets chirped or trees whispered. Downstairs I could hear the grandfather clock signal the hour. One O' clock in the morning. I was still dressed, wearing the black summer gown that my mother made me wear to church today. My feet hung off the bed, my arms tucked under my pillowcase. I knew I looked a mess; my mascara blackened my cheeks, my curly hair hung around me in thin tendrils. I had been in this position for several hours. My chest hurt; I felt a hole had been ripped through it, letting in so much pain I could barely take anymore. I wiped at my eyes. The tears began to ease, yet my heart's sorrow did not. I thought about turing on the T.V., but I just didn't have the energy. Moonlight shone a pon my carpet, I watched the milky shadows dance together, much like a couple waltzing in an empty ballroom. They swirled together, locked as one, their loved creating an everlasting bond. I wanted to be them, to have not a care in the world, to feel weightless and happy.

For a moment silence greeted me. Until suddenly I heard the piano downstairs playing. It was a very soft, melodic tune, sad but beautiful. Who would be playing this late at night? I was the only one in the family who could play, I was their prodigy. I sat up as the notes grew faster and faster and then-nothing. I slowly climbed out of bed, the springs creaking. Gently I opened my door, trying to be as careful as possible. The music began again, the same exact melody. I let my hand guide me through the dark hallway and down the stairs, I was more curious that afraid.I past the kitchen and the den. Still, I followed the music, my eyes half closed and the hole in my chest closing slightly. I peeked around the corner to the living room, shocked to find a man sitting at the piano, his long, pale fingers gently walking over the keys. His head was thrown back, a few stands of his long black hair covering his eyes. I watched him play for a long time, admiring his muscial skills and wondering who he was. I knew I should have been alarmed and disturbed at the fact no one else was down here investingating, but his presense calmed me somehow, I had forgotten the troubles today. Slowly his fingers came to a stop, his head bowed. I dared not move nor breath.

"My Lady," His voice was a breathless whisper, the silkiness of a rose petal. He looked up and stretched one hand out to me. I internally died on the inside. How did he know I was here?

"Please." It was the please that struck my heart. It sounded so painfully, like every breath hurt him somehow.

"W-what do you want?" My voice cracked like a dead log, I could feel myself moving forward though my mind screamed NO!.

"Let me play for you madam." He stood up and took my right hand and put the other around my waist. Although he was invitingly warm, I tried breaking away on instinct.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" His handsome face was so close to mine; I wanted to reach up and stroke his chisled features.

"Just one dance." He kissed our clasped hands.

"But there's no music." I jumped when the piano began to play itself, a slow, timley waltz. When I looked back at him he was smiling sadly. I caved in, resting my head against his broad chest, letting my eyes close and my hand slide behind his neck. After a while of swaying together I felt him sigh soflty against my bare shoulder. I hoped he hadn't felt the tears that dropped onto his arm. He did. My stranger pulled back a few inches, a look of concern on his beautiful face.

"Why do you cry?" His thumb brushed my eyelid, running down the length of my jaw, then crossing over to my lips.

"I don't know, I just don't know anything now." His black hair fell as a silky curtain when he cocked his head.

"I don't know who you are, or how you got in, or why I'm even down here, or why that piano is playing itself! It seems like I'm in a Gothic Wonderland. Have I turned into Alice?" I could hear myself rambling, but I coudn't be quiet.

"I do not know of this 'Alice', but I have come for you. Everything you see here is real."

"But why are you here?" I asked.

"To take away your pain, to mend that hole in your chest, to turn those tears into diamonds. Nothing will ever hurt you again, you will be safe with me."

"But how do I know I'm not dreaming? Dreams can be the best escape."

"Never escape me." He took my face in his hands and brought his lips to mine. Electricity crackled above us, I had never been kissed like this, let alone felt this way. I fed on his kisses, my fingers running through his hair and his nails running down my back. I felt like there was an entire orchestra around us, violins screaming, the piano crashing violently, bass guitars slamming into a drum set. Liquid fire coursed through my veins, I wanted to scream, my body was exploding. I nearly collasped in his arms when he pulled away, we were both breathless. We sank to the wooden floor, my gown and hair spilling over like blood. He lay next to me, propped up on one arm.

"Do you believe me now?"

"I will never again doubt your words." He smiled again, his fingers caressing my neck.

"Do you wish to escape?"

"Yes." I whispered.

"Would you come with me and leave them behind?"

"Of course." He leaned down close, his lips grazing my ear.

"But would you sacrifice your life just to be with me?" His lips moved down to my throat, gently kissing and nipping the flesh. I touched his hair, running my fingers through his silken locks.I knew what I was saying.

"Yes."

"Then so be it." I heard him murmur. Suddenly he pinned my arms down tightly and threw back his head. I watched, half-stunned half-paralyzed with fear as a pair of sparkling white fangs slid from his gums, at least an inch-long. The pain was worse than you can imagine, they dug deeper into my tender skin puncturing the surface. I screamed, or at least I tried to scream. I began to remember my childhood memories. I saw Nana and Pa Pa out in the backyard, laughing, ice tinkling in a cool glass. It was a picnic.

There was my 13th birthday party, no one had showed up. My first day of high school. There was nowhere to sit. Everyone hated me. I began to paint. Dark, blurred paintings, I wanted them all to die. They had killed me slightly. My first boyfriend. Michael. He tried to sleep with me. He didn't live the rest of that night.

There was so much blood. The car seats, my clothes, my face. I was never caught.

The vampire cradled me in his arms, a single drop of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"I will not leave you here, but if I did, you would die. Would you rather die than come with me?" I tried to find my voice.

"No..." I didn't even hear that. He placed my limp head against his chest.

"No..." Louder this time."No, no, no!" His kissed my hair. I was still bleeding. He lifted his wrist to his lips and bit hard. I could hear the sickening pop! of his flesh breaking. I could smell his blood. When he pressed his lips to my mouth, I drank in the salty black blood. It ran down my throat, dripped onto my dress.

"Drink my darling, drink." My strength began to return, but my breath grew shallow, I found it hard to keep my eyes open.

"This is the hard part."

That was the last thing I heard before my heart stopped and I died.

Finished: April 8, 2007

10:18 pm, Sunday night