10-YEAR-OLD WIFE

Chapter 25 - I Don't Need It

Hullo, everyone!🤓

My final exam result for semester 1 will be coming out soon and I have a withdrawal symptoms because of it. I ate too much lately. Hohoho...🤪

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Father loved my music.

Back then when he was still alive, whenever he was in a bad mood or in need for some sort of soothing, he would always asked me to play the piano.

And I'd happily play it for his sake. Because I loved it when he showed me that gentle smile. I loved it when he caressed my head and praised me with that proud look on his face.

That was the reason why, even though he was no longer there, I still played the piano the way he loved them. And I thought that, it was the only way I could proved that I had a father.

But I guess fate just wouldn't leave me alone.

Few months after father's death, my secret was leaked. And my life plunged head first into the darkness.

My friends in school turned their back on me. My teachers looked at me with this pity in their eyes, and sometimes they also failed to cover the disgust they felt upon seeing me.

I thought that I was strong, that I was stronger than anyone my age, but I was wrong. Oh, I was so wrong.

The bullies, the isolation, the pain, I wouldn't mind them much, and slowly, I started to get used to them. But I underestimated the hate they felt for me.

Maybe because I never cried, not when they hurt me, not when they insulted me, so they decided that they needed to do something.

They took away the only thing father left behind for me.

I still could vividly recalled that day when it happened. I was walking back home, late in the afternoon after usual my piano lesson.

I remembered feeling excited, for I finally finished the song, the song that father left behind incomplete. So I took it upon myself to finish it.

I wanted to play it at home.

I wanted to let father hear them.

I thought that if I played it again and again in the future, my father might heard it up in the heaven.

But I couldn't do it.

Not when those bullies that seemed to hate me deep to their bone, actually ganged up on me, as they destroyed the only reason I had to remember father.

I could still feel the pain even now, as they used a steel pipe to hit my hands.

It was hurt. It really was.

But I couldn't even fight them off as they beat the crap out of me. I remembered my voice, as I shouted and shouted, and I begged them to not hurt my hands.

I remembered hearing myself saying pathetic words.

That I would do anything for them to stop. I begged them to hit me, they could even hit me into a coma, but I said, please, don't hurt my hands.

And I cried. For the first time, I cried in front of them.

Yet not an ounce of pity did they ever spared me with. They stepped on my hands, saying that I didn't deserve them.

They ripped the music sheets, they stomped on my bag, with satisfied laughed as they watched me crumbled. And they did this without any pity nor guilt in their eyes.

I remembered this, I remembered being forced to face them. And even now, I just couldn't understand, why couldn't they just leave me alone?

Even after I got back to school after getting out of the hospital, they still wouldn't leave me alone for any peace. Even after being warned by the police, even after being warned by my grandpa, they still hated me.

They still bullied me. And eventually, even the teachers no longer cared for this.

And I started to feel sorry for grandpa. The guilt ate me inside, everytime I saw that tired look he had. And I then decided, I shouldn't trouble him.

So I face them by myself.

I was strong, even if they beat me, even if my hands no longer functioned the way they did before, even if I cried inside, I wouldn't let it get to me.

Even if...

Even if I could never play the piano using my hands, I thought, even so, I still needed to be strong.

I needed to, for if I ever let the pain consume me, the hope of wanting to get back what I had lost, the desire to heal myself, I would lose them too.

That was how I started to live my days.

With this one hope of wanting to play the piano the way father loved, I started my so-called life planning.

But being a school dropped, being a twenty-two year old woman, could I even hope to get it back?

I had lost the chance already.

It was too late.

"So tell me, what should I do now?"

I turned to Gai, my fingers never start to run on the piano keys the way they always did before, as I only rested them on the black and white tiles, frozen.

He was looking at me. His face was blank, void of any emotions. But I saw it in his eyes.

I saw...

The pain. The sadness, and those emotions he had as looked at me, it made me felt more and more miserable.

He felt pain for me.

I knew.

And I was grateful for it. I really did.

But I didn't need it.

What I need, was something I could no longer have.

And those pain, those emotions he had for me, only further proved how helpless it was for me to get the thing that I wanted.

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Alright, that explains the injury Mimi had, doesn't it?

Uh, I think I had never mention that Mimi was a pianist. Well it's because I wouldn't want the story to focus on that, so yeah.(there's the tag though) 😊

BTW,

It took me almost two hours to finish the new story cover. 😐

But I'm quite satisfied with it, at least it looks better than the previous ones.

Don't you think so?

What do you think of the new cover? 😳