All Just Words

BEFORE *

*edited*

Before the mistake happened life was fine. Life was good in fact. Not perfect, but then what is? Everything was finally falling into place and was slowly beginning to heal itself. But before all of this, let me explain how it all came to be.

5 Years***

Sitting in an empty practice room. The best way of avoiding any contact with my so called "fellow peers".
It's just me and the dated piano which is slightly out of tune, covered in writing and some of the keys don't work, but it is still playable. My fingers hover over the black and ivory keys itching to find a tune that fits. Although before I knew it my hands take over and start to play, unleashing my inner musical prodigy, which was very minimal. I close my eyes and just enjoy the few moments that I have each day to be alone and to express myself without the fear of being judged or tormented.

Welcome to the world of an outcast. Not one of the easiest ways of life, but you learn to live with it or at least try to.

Everyone needs an escape sometimes, let's face it.

I was still in a trance that was caused by the echoing sound of the strings inside the piano. When there was a timid knock on the door of the practice room. It was so soft that I almost didn't hear it.

But I'm glad I did.

"You do realise that you have a pretty good, right?" A voice said behind me.

I turned around, my first thought was expecting it to be my music teacher, Mr Kennedy. But then why would he say a thing like that since he was the one who taught me how to play in the first place.

It for sure was not Mr Kennedy.

Instead of the tall, middle aged man, leaning against the glass panel of the door was a petite girl clutching onto the shoulder strap of her bag with one hand, the other was placed firmly in the front pockets of her hoddie, which replaced her school blazer. Her eyes stared at me wide in amazement. She began to come closer.

"Since when did you play like that?"

"Since when were you standing there?" I asked in return, timidly turning back around to face the instrument.

"Answer my question first" She put down her bag next to mine with a thud and leaned on the lid of the piano, placing her hand underneath her chin.

"A while a few years I-I guess" I uttered putting my hands into my blazer, with my head held low, my fringe covering my face. "Now you answer my question" I said with a tiny ounce of confidence, trying to mask the small factor that I'm kind of terrified.

"A while, a few minutes, I guess" She laughed a little, mocking me slightly and sat next to me, unknowingly, on the broken side of the piano stool.

Great.

Now if either of us gets up the other will end up on the floor. I guess we are going to be here a while. That's fine by me.

I thought to myself grinning a little.

I've seen this girl around school a lot and she's in a few of my classes, but I have never had to courage to go up and talk to her. And there's plenty of good reasons for it.

You see, like in every school there's always that one group that everyone is 'wary' of and who's ever in that group is automatically higher up on the food chain than everyone else. Let's just say she's in "That" group. So that means that she automatically has power over me. But in this moment I felt equal. She physically and metaphorically came down to my level and she seemed to be knowingly doing it, not forcing herself just to be 'nice'. Despite being the same, I'm still the complete opposite of her. I'm not one of the most popular and well liked people; I'd much rather delve into a book or sit alone in a practice room playing by myself.