I am his, and he his mine • cmbyn (DISCONTINUED)

☼ one ☼

La Campanella

A piece that came so easily to me, but to others, it was like and intricate sound that takes years for one to perfect. People gathered around my grand piano, quiet for the first time tonight, and listened to the melodic sound.

I closed my eyes to make it more dramatic. I nodded my head up and down, up and down to give a sort of suspense. And I pushed the damper pedal to make the music louder to show the strong emotion.

Once the music stopped there was a brief pause before applause. My family and my friends smiled at me and told me I did wonderfully and should consider a professional study of the art of piano playing. Soon, the whole bunch was scattered about again, eating some small finger foods and drinking wine.  

We were having one of our small get together dinners. I enjoyed the company and the food, but by the end of it I was most definitely ready to be by myself.

I checked my small watch and it read: 11:45.

I sighed and looked around for my parents. I was going to tell them I wanted to go to sleep although in reality I wouldn't really go to sleep, I would procrastinate sleep for as long as I possibly could because my dreams were uncontrollable. They normally brought sadness or nostalgia, neither of which I liked.

I spotted them finally and went to tell them, not without small unavoidable chats with some friends. I walked through a few crowds of people I didn't really know, but they knew me because when I came through they all shouted, "Elio!" And I just smiled at them in return, not knowing what to say to these strangers.

"Oh Elio, darling! You did wonderfully on your piece, everyone was impressed," my mother smiled at me warmly and cupped my cheek.

"They always are," I smiled back and removed her hand, "I came to tell you I'm going to bed, I've had a nice time tonight."

"I'm glad, have a good nights rest. I'll shoo these people out soon," My father smiled and gripped my mothers waist.

"Goodnight darling," my mother said and I walked away, sort of rushed to try and a avoid the people looking at me and trying to approach me to have a chat.

•

I laid in my bed, just staring at the ceiling. I thought of nothing, what do you think about when you've already thought everything? I traced the pattern of the ceiling with my eyes, and breathed slowly.

I soon got bored with the forlorn and got up from my bed. I walked over to my desk and sat down on my uncomfortable wood chair. I looked down at the piece of blank sheet music that was already there from a previous try at writing something new.

I scribbled some notes that I thought could potentially sound good together. I knew that I was going to just throw this away, but I continued on and wasted my time writing and writing and writing. I continued writing until my hand became numb and I had to shake it out. I looked down at my sheet and played out the notes in my head and they all added up to a discordant mess.

I threw the useless paper in the trash and checked my watch again: 1:04. I needed to get some rest.

•

I woke up, the summer sun flowing through my open window and making my skin sticky with sweat. I got up a little too quick, so quick that everything became black for a moment. I shook my head and walked to my restroom, ignoring the pounding feeling in my head.

I turned on the faucet and splashed some water on my face. I looked over my skin in the mirror and decided I needed to shave the small hairs growing on my upper lip. I grabbed my razor and carefully shaved, making sure not to cut myself.

I left the restroom shaven and clean. I slipped on some clothes that I wore the day before and left my room to go downstairs. The house smelled of breakfast foods that Mafalda had been making all morning. I poked my head in the kitchen and smiled to her, "ha un odore delizioso," (smells delicious) before I walked outside to my parents.

"Ciao," I kissed both of their cheeks.

"Sleep well?" My father asked from beneath his news paper.

"Well enough, how was the rest of the party?" I asked.

"Fine, fine. They all left shortly after you went upstairs," my mother replied.

"Oh," was all I said before reaching over the table to grab some horderves, "I'm going out today," I said with my mouth full.

"Oh? Where?"

"To town," I shrugged and dropped the subject, "what are your plans for the day?"

"We're going to get ready for our new summer guest," my mother said calmly

"Oh, I didn't even know you had decided on one yet, who is it?"

"Ehm—" My father cleared his throat before speaking, "we forget his name, he's American though, I know that," he smiled briefly before sticking his nose back in the paper.

•

I rode my bike on the old road, the cool wind intertwining with my brown curls. I closed my eyes and let the wind hit my face. The air smelt of wild lavender, a smell I always loved.

Once I arrived in the small town of crema the elderly people who resided there waved at me passing by. The couples who lasted hung to each other and laughed like they were teenagers heading to a movie, I envied them. I wanted to have a lasting relationship like them, one so stable it would last 60 years and so on.

I rode up to a small restaurant and propped up my bike on the side of a wall. I walked in, with my hands in my pockets and a small smile on my face, "ciao, tavolo per uno per favore," (hey, table for one please) I smiled to the hostess that was sitting behind a stand.

"certo, seguimi," (Of course, follow me,) she said and grabbed a menu before walking to a small secluded table outside.

I sat down and told her I only wanted water for a while. She left me alone for the rest of the evening other than the refills of water. I sat alone for the entire time, no one approached me or tried to talk to me. I sat there alone, writing music I heard through my Walkman or new things I made up on my own. I thought I was just going to sit and write for a few moments but a few moments turned into a few hours and when I looked up from my sheet, the sun was lowering itself into the earth.

Since the day soon started to subside so I decided to pack up my things and leave a small tip for the waitress. I got up and smiled to the kind old woman that served me my waters while I walked out.

I grabbed my bike from the side of the old building and started to walk it around the town. I checked in in some shops and flipped through some magazines. I sighed and I hopped on my bike, about to ride off back in the direction of my home when I heard it.

The voice I hadn't heard in so long, the one I yearned to whisper in my ear, I love you each night.

The deep and melodic voice I missed so dearly.

Oliver Ulliva.

•

This chapter is rewritten

:)))

Xoxo