Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Eight

Aurora

Growing up I had always taken an interest in music. It was something I shared with my mother - she was actually the one who taught me how to play the piano although since she passed it was something I actively avoided. I often steered clear of Sam and Dean's 'band' sessions and even when I was there, I was more than content with just observing. Sam tried to let him teach me once but I had flat out told him no. I hadn't touched an instrument since she died and I was planning on it staying that way for a long time.

It took a while before my tears ran out, the tracks drying on my cheeks, leaving faint stains. I took out my diary that was securely hidden beneath my mattress and let my thoughts flow onto the page, addressing the entry to Sam, not that I would ever find the guts to give it to him.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty as her. You gave her your jumper, your favourite jumper, the one you said looked better on me. I still remember that day vividly. December third. I remember feeling like I was on top of the world. Why does it hurt so much? It's just polyester. So, why does it feel like someone's just torn my heart out and stomped all over it? Why do I find myself wishing that I was Heather?

I stared down at the page with puffy eyes before staring at my wardrobe, where my keyboard lay hidden, collecting dust, just as it had been since we moved here. I pursed my lips and pushed myself up off the bed, striding over to the wooden doors, my hand ghosting over the handle. I took a deep breath and swung it open, my eyes trailing over the instrument before I grabbed it hesitantly. My stomach flipped as I set it up and dusted off the keys, staring down at the black and white tiles, daring myself to play but only managing to ghost my fingers along them. Cautiously, I pressed down on one of the keys, earning a loud note to echo from the speakers. With more confidence, I rested both hands, playing around with the notes until I had a melody

"Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester. But you like her better. I wish I were Heather," I sang softly as the tears slowly began to fall down my face once more.

I sat at that keyboard for just over two hours, managing to put a full song together. I was just so lost in my own world, trying to vent through music that I hadn't realised the floods of tears that had streamed down my cheeks. It was hard but I was so glad that I pushed myself to do it. I felt like my connection with my mother had only strengthened and I had realised how much I loved music.

I took a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes, deciding that I was going to record the song, for myself to hold onto. Carefully, I set up my phone, resting it against a stack of books on my desk and pressed record, brushing my fingers across the keys before I began playing.

"I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater. You said it looked better on me than it did you. Only if you knew how much I liked you," I sang softly, my fingers dancing along the keys, "But I watch your eyes as she walks by. What a sight for sore eyes. Brighter than the blue sky. She's got you mesmerised while I die."

I finished the song and shut off the video, uploading the video to my YouTube account privately. It was something I did before my mam died. I liked to keep them there as something to look back on without having to dig through old phones and galleries. I threw my phone once it had uploaded and sprawled myself on my bed, feeling slightly better after getting my feelings out into the open. The exhaustion of the day sent me into a deep slumber almost immediately, the stress and upset melting away as I drifted into the abyss, glad that today had been the last day of term and I wouldn't have to face Sam for the next few weeks.

Sam

I was woken up by the incessant sound of my phone buzzing with text alerts. Groaning, I turned over in bed to grab the device, frowning as I saw at least a dozen messages from Dean, answering him immediately when a phone call came through from him.