Key To My Heart [Chase Davenport]

Chapter Twenty Four

The first thing that's on my mind when I wake up is Tasha. I quickly check the time, and I sigh. It's still pretty early in the morning, and I doubt she's awake. She's had a hard couple of weeks, and I want her to rest as much as possible. However, I still want to question her because she'll soon forget important details about her kidnappers and where she was at when she was kidnapped. 

My fingers absentmindedly latch onto my necklace, the pendant kind of warm against my skin. Just touching the necklace makes my anxiety quell ever so slightly. Mom gave this necklace to me when I was younger, and I associate it with her. It's my safety net of sorts, and the piano is another safety net of mine. I long to play it, and this time, I listen to my heart. 

I slide out of my bed, my bare feet touching the floor. It's already warm outside, which means that it's warm inside. I brush my hair pack, pulling my scrunchie around it so that it's in a ponytail. My curls make it hard for me to put it into a ponytail, but I'm used to it by now, so I don't struggle as much. Stuffing my phone in my pajama pants pocket, I make my way to my door. 

Slowly opening my door, I look both ways before stepping out into the hallway. No one is out there, so I'll be all alone playing the piano. Hopefully I won't wake anyone up. It would be embarrassing. 

Tiptoeing across the floor, I head down the stairs. I spot the piano on the next landing, and my heart starts racing in my chest. It's begging for me to play it, to finally feel better after my terrible accident. I make my way over to it, running my hand over the wooden key cover. My teacher's piano looks like this one, with the dark wood body. It's not this big, though, and it sort of intimidates me. Forcing my anxiety away for a second, I sit down and push the key cover away. 

My fingers rest on the piano keys, my anxiety taking over once agin. What if I'm not good anymore? Playing piano is a huge part of my life, and if I'm not able to play well, what is the point of all of the practicing I did?

Closing my eyes, I press down on a key. I let my thoughts run out of my head and allow my fingers to move on their own. The soft music plays out from the piano, making my skin pimple and my head go dizzy. My heart beats in tune with the music, pounding and squeezing with every note. The soft music soon turns loud in my ears, but I'm not sure if it was just me.

Everything seeps into the background as I play the last thing that I learned. It has been a year since I last played a piano, since I had that terrible accident on stage. After my that happened, there was nothing that interested me anymore, especially the piano. Now, though, is a different story. I'm ready to get back to the piano, to my music. I told Mom that I would eventually get back to normal, and maybe this is a sign that I was getting better.

I smile softly as I finish the song. I keep my fingers on the keys and my eyes shut as I let the warmth spread through my body. It had been so long. Too long. My fingers itch to play more, but I can't. One song is enough. It let me know that I'm going to be okay.

"That was beautiful," a soft voice says from beside me. I jump, nearly falling off of the piano seat. My eyes flash open and I see Chase sitting next to me. How did he get there without me noticing? And why is he here? "I didn't mean to scare you," he says, sheepishly, "but I couldn't help but listen."

"Oh, thanks," I say, taking my hands off of the keys. Playing with my necklace, I say, "I haven't played the piano in a while, so it was fun to play." I nudge him slightly, saying, "You're a long way from your Lab. What are you doing up here?"

"I wanted to be ready for when Tasha wakes up." He pats his pajama pants pocket, saying, "I made a list of questions we can ask her."

"Oh, thanks."