As I walked through the auditorium doors, I could hear some individuals talking.

Darby Rail spoke as she and Morgan Burle slipped out, "Tonight's performance was spectacular. Not many pianists play with such high chords throughout one song. Who knew someone would be capable of composing in that way."

"I would never be able to create such a piece as that. How that man does it, I will never know." Morgan managed to laugh out.

I smirked, listening to many conversations about my work and the jealousy that arose in some. The partially envious crowd looked at me in disgust, but they were the ones who came to every single show of mine. It seems to be me who they were blaming for my beautiful chords. The honest truth was, I didn't even know what I was playing half the time.

The following Friday.

A little boy was playing with his ball in the yard with the sun beginning to set over the houses. His mother called him over and spoke through the open window, informing him that they were having pasta and soup for dinner. The boy nodded his head and ran back to the front of the yard where he was bouncing his brand new red and yellow ball.

About a half hour or so later, the boy's mother called him in for dinner. He started running, and as he did so, the ball slipped from his fingers and hit a tiny rock. It began bouncing towards the street. His mother looked up in shock to see her six year old son running into the street. She had also noticed a car speeding down the road, its lights off, almost invisible in the twilight surroundings.

He was standing in the street, picking up the ball. The mother came running out, and pushed her son out of the way just moments before the car struck. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to remove herself from the path of the reckless driver.

Tears swelled my eyes, with the memory continuously lingering in my head. The audience was so silent; any tiny noise might just be too loud and frighten the lot of them. My legs stretched as I stood up slowly, then fell back behind stage to gather my thoughts. Mumbles began as soon as I was out of sight; it was expected and understandable.

Through the many times I had ever played a single song, I have yet to allow my emotions to over-whelm me. I peeked through a slit and could see everyone talking; not a soul had moved out of their seat.

I quietly spoke, trying to force myself to get over it. "It was twenty years ago, she survived. It was twenty years ago. She survived." The more I said the one phrase, the quicker I got calm. "Everyone's waiting for you." I told myself. "Don't make a fool now, take a deep breath and return to your fans."

My usual serious expression returned and I re-entered from behind the curtains. When they caught sight of me, the room as a whole was then again silenced. It was almost like someone had shut the door on a very windy day, and the wind ceased to push and rustle. I took my seat in front of the piano, which was well over-rested from the past ten minutes I had been gone. My fingers automatically rested gently on the keys. My vision seemed a little bit fuzzed, which was clearly a bad sign. My eyes closed and the song took flight.

A woman was cooking dinner in her house. The steam from the pot of meat rose and filled the air with flavours, tender and spicy. A small grey mouse scurried into a hole near the ground, with a peanut. The night suddenly turned gloomy, the presence feeling dark. The woman gazed out the window for a moment, spotting something unpleasant. She dropped everything carefully and began running. All of the doors and windows were locked just as she hoped, a sigh of relief escaped through her lips.

She walked back to the kitchen and picked up her knife. A man appeared behind her, just staring at her for a few moments. She began cutting slower and slower. Then she looked up and began running with the man trailing behind.

Evidently, everything went black and my sight of the woman had disappeared. Even I was terrified by this vision, never before had it been this bad. I stood up and bowed, not knowing the time or place this was to occur. The woman had looked familiar. My eyes surfed the crowd, searching for the woman's face. She was in my audience, her eyes gleaming as she clapped.

Darby Rail, a woman who was known for her kindness, had been watching me play. Who would want to hurt her was beyond me. Now that I knew where it was to occur; the date of the incident was the real problem. I never even thought before now that we would have a murderer in this town, but of course I would not know since I rarely conversed with anyone.

For the next three weeks, I would have to follow this woman around until the time came. Within this period I also had to find a way to stop it from occurring.

Three weeks later.

I skulked the outside of Darby's house, and hid in the bushes by her kitchen window. I slipped on the ice, and the light caught my leg. I pulled it back into the shadows as quick as I could. The look she had on her face arose through the window as she began running. I rushed to the doors and tried to get it, but a reminder popped into my head; they were all locked. The sliding glass door wasn't shielded with the curtains, so I peeked through. My eyes must have been betraying me; it was Darby's husband, Gavin, chasing her. I watched helplessly as he caught up to her and threw her onto the couch. He jumped at her, his arms only grasping the air as she attempts to push him away.

I started banging on the sliding glass door, trying to find a way to break in and save her. Both Darby and Gavin looked at me and walked over. This had me in complete and utter confusion. Darby was just fighting with Gavin for her life, meanwhile they were walking over to me ever so calm. She slid open the door. "Why hello Elvin, can we help you in any way?"

Confusion was still struck upon me. "Weren't you two just fighting?"

She smiled and looked at Gavin. "No, of course not; he was trying to tickle me."

"So he wasn't trying to kill you?"

Darby looked at me with questioning eyes. "No, no, no; he would never hurt me."

"Then why did you run from the kitchen window?"

"I saw a leg pop out that looked similar to…" She looked down at my legs. "…yours."

"Oh… but I thought…" My voice trailed off.

"You shouldn't believe everything you see. Go home and get some sleep, good night." Darby shut the door, and followed Gavin.

"Good night." I whispered to both myself and the couple. I turned around and began on my journey home.


This was just an allegory I wrote for english class.

For those of you who don't know what an allegory is, its a story in which the author uses something to symbolize a lesson.

Spanks for checkin' it!

--SabRINA