When I was eight, I met this really wealthy girl. She was probably the richest in my whole class. How did I know she was rich, you ask? Well, that was easy. That was because she managed to buy her own world.

I always saw her alone. Most of the time, she was in some corner of the classroom, molding clay, reading books or just sleeping. I guess I could say I was afraid of her. Same was true for most of the class. She didn't seem to be the friendly type. Add that to the fact that she wasn't even that pretty. She seemed content on being alone… so the whole class just let her be.

But then, this one unfortunate day, I was forced to step into the boundaries of her "world".

I still remember that fateful day. It has been years since then but, maybe, if something was really, really important to you, it'd be impossible to forget about it. Maybe that was just how the way things work.

Because I was the class representative, our homeroom teacher instructed me to encourage the whole class to participate in the day activities like morning exercises and such. It was a fairly easy task—if not for her. I knew she wouldn't cooperate. Besides, I was scared of her.

True enough, when I instructed the class to gather around the front of the classroom, she didn't come forward. She just sat in her corner, staring at us. I really didn't want to bother her, but if our homeroom teacher saw her alone, she would definitely scold me. I had no choice. I guess I had to do something about it.

I walked up to her… all the while my heart was pounding. What should I tell her? How should I ask her to join us? How would she respond? I was thinking too hard that I didn't even realize that I was already in front of her.

"Are you going to ask me to join you guys?" She asked, looking at me suspiciously. I wasn't even able to speak. I couldn't even defend myself!

"Uh… yeah," I finally responded after a moment of silence.

"No thanks," she replied, yawning. She stretched out on her chair then stared out of the window. "Don't worry. If the teacher finds me, she won't scold you," she added.

"How do you know that?" I asked. I was suddenly irritated. How the hell could she know that the teacher won't scold me?

"Because I said so," she said without looking at me. "You can go ahead with your activities now."

"You have to join us," I said stubbornly. Whichever way you put it, I was still a guy and I didn't appreciate my ego to being stepped on by just some girl who wasn't even pretty.

I know that sounded bad. But could anyone really blame me? I was eight!

"I don't want to," she answered just as stubbornly.

"Fine. Do what you want," I said irritably. "It's not like we need you anyway." I really didn't mean to say that, but I guess I was just really angry. I meant to say sorry but I didn't want to lose face in front of the whole class, so I just walked back to the front to begin the class activity.

I didn't see her all afternoon after that.

When the bell to signal the end of classes rang, I dashed out of the classroom. I wanted to go home early because I still have a cartoon to catch.

And so I rushed out of the room…

…but halfway towards the school grounds, I stopped.

I heard something—sounds—coming from the room I just passed by. I walked back until I was standing in front of the door where the sounds were coming from.

They were the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard in my entire life.

I looked up from where I was standing and saw the sign on the door. It said: MUSIC ROOM. I pressed my ear against the door so I could listen more closely. It was really beautiful. The sounds were really beautiful. I had never heard anything like it before.

I opened the door a tiny bit to see who or what was making the sound.

What I found inside was just plain shocking—for me, I guess.

She was there. The girl. The loner.

She was playing the piano.

But then she suddenly stopped.


"What are you doing here?" She asked in complete outrage. I would have run, but then I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. I couldn't move a muscle. I couldn't even talk.

"I was just—I'm just—" I couldn't believe it! I was speechless!

"Go away," she snapped, turning back to her piano.

I knew I should have just walked away but the sounds… they were calling me. I didn't know what I was doing. I just—walked up to her.

"I said go away," she drawled as she continued to play.

"My name's Nathan," was my answer. I didn't know where I got all the courage to be able to talk to her like that. I just knew that I really needed to talk to her. I wanted to talk to her. "Who are you?"

"Why are you talking to me?" She asked wonderingly.

"Why shouldn't I?" Was there some sort of law that forbade me to talk to her?

"Well—you're the class representative," she answered, looking at me quizzically as though asking why don't you know this? "You're very popular. People like you don't talk to people like me."

"I'm really sorry for what I did a while ago," I said. I needed to apologize for what I said to her. I knew I hurt her feelings then. "Your piano's really good. Will you let me listen some more?"

She stared at me for a good long time, and I found myself holding my breath. Then, she did something I never would have thought she'd do. She scooted over to make room for me on the piano bench. She motioned for me to sit down beside her, so I did.

"It's Amy," she said quietly before continuing to play.

Wordlessly, I listened to her play, and only to this day did I realize that what she played for me then was Chopin's Nocturne in Eb.

We had been together since then.

Her name was Amy.

And this

This is our story.