Hearing Lyric

Chapter 11

I sighed as walked through the door of the music room. As promised, I came during lunch. Looking around I see that I’m the only one here. Great he totally tricked me. I spotted the piano on the other side of the room and my fingers itched to feel the cool keys underneath them.

I walked over to it, careful to avoid the music stands that seemed to be everywhere. I always wanted to be in a music class, choir especially. I may know how to play piano and recently guitar and I love to play both but my heart really lies with singing. When I sing I feel so free, like I am really alive, like I can breathe again.

I sat at the bench and slowly ran my hands over the keys. When I found the notes I was looking for I started to play. Its been so long since I really sung. I was like my mom, I loved to make music, create it. I loved to make new sounds, and write words that no one has ever written before.

I pressed on the keys and started to play the song that I had written when my life at home got really hard.

 (A/N: In this story Demi Lovato IS Lyric so therefore Skyscraper never exists.)

“Skies are crying, I am watching, catching teardrops in my hand,” I could imagine my voice ringing out in the silent room, although I would never know what it would really sound like. I shook away that thought and continued to sing, feeling free of everything.

“You can take everything I have; you can break everything I am, like I’m made of glass, like I’m made of paper. Go on and try to tear me down, I will be rising from the ground like a skyscraper.” I stopped singing as soon as I felt eyes on me.

I turned quickly to see Trey standing in the doorway of the music room, his eyes wide as he watched me. I quickly stood and ran a hand through my hair, a nervous habit for I was always doing it whenever I was the center of attention.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you, I uh got bored, didn’t know that I was that bad.” I mumbled as I inched further away from the piano and closer to the door, wishing that I could just disappear.

He shook his head, his eyes still wide before he seemed to snap back to reality. “No! I mean uh, no, you aren’t bad, you are actually really good. But how do you do that, I mean, you can’t hear so how do you listen to the music? How do you know what sounds good and what sounds bad? It just doesn’t make sense.” As he said this he walked closer and grabbed my wrist before dragging me back to the bench and lightly pushing me so I was sitting.

“Oh, well you see I think that it honestly has something to do with the fact that I am deaf. I learned how to play piano a long time ago because my mom wanted me too and I guess that I have always been good at it.”

“Your mom made you learn? But you’re deaf” the look on his face showed confusion.

I smiled, “I wasn’t always deaf though, I had finished my piano lessons by the time I was six and I could still hear back then.”

“You weren’t always deaf? Wait, six? You finished your piano lessons by the time you were six? Isn’t that like, impossible?”

“Yeah I lost my hearing when I was eight. It’s not impossible if you were considered a child prodigy by some composers.”

“When you were eight?” he sat next to me, disbelief in his eyes.

“Yeah, when I was eight.” I mumbled as I looked down.

He shook his head “How?”

I looked up at him through my bangs, “That’s a story for another time. Now are we going to write a song or what?”

“Yeah, uh right the song.” He said as he stood up and moved through the maze of chairs and stands with a sense of familiarity. He picked up his backpack that must have fallen on the floor and searched through it quickly before pulling out a piece of paper that was crumpled into a ball.