Empty Seat

He told me that the only thing I was ever good at was the piano. Hiding behind a fading smirk and the thick stench of whiskey, he reminded me that there wasn't anything else I could possibly do. It was always the piano. Only the piano.

He put me through years of lessons, pushing me until my fingers bled, yelling every time I missed a note and asking why I couldn't do it.

"What is wrong with you?" he shrieked before taking another swig of his Crown Royal.

"I'm trying," I cry as I miss the next note.

I still remember the look he gave me. The red tinge in his trembling cheeks, the anger in his bloodshot eyes and the intense way he held onto his glass. I stared at the ice quake in fear, cowering inside the brown liquid as he shook and screamed, insisting that I knew more. Reminding me that his money is the reason I was worth anything at all.  He shouted and shouted until I cried out that I couldn't take it anymore, but he never let up. He never did.

There is a part deep inside of me that wants me to be grateful, to thank him for all those years of pushing and nagging. For all the lessons and all the encouragement, I should thank him. I wouldn't be here without any of it.

"It is my proud honor to introduce the talented Jane Doe."

The applause split through the silence the way lighting cuts through a tree. My stomach drops and my knees trembles as I begin my long journey across the stage. If the brightness of the spotlight wasn't bad enough, it was the heat. It burned through my skin, turning my bones to ash as I neared the piano. I was sure that somewhere a draft was going to find me and blow my ruins into the wind.

Sweat fell down the back of my neck, forming into a pool just above my blouse. I'm grateful that I decided to wear my hair down today, that way no one will know how nervous I actually was. No one will know how disgusting I really am.

My feet slow and then stop. The crowd was silent now, so quiet, in fact, that I swear I heard a little cricket cheering me on from high up in the stands. I stare down at the object in front of me, at the obstacle that caused me to stop, a stool perched in front of a grand piano.

The black paint reflects every strand of light in the auditorium and shone brighter than any spotlight could. It was beautiful. Smooth and simple, but strong and scary.

I heard his voice screaming in the back of my head, shouting for me to sit my ass down. I want to yell back at the voice and tell him I know what I am doing, that I always knew, but instead, I remain silent and listen to him.

I take my seat, straightening my back and preparing my hands for the song. Before I could play a single note, I crook my head to the right, staring out onto the anxious crowd and squinting my eyes in order to peer through the harsh light, searching for the front row where my people were waiting for me.

My eyes pop to the first seat where my little sister sat anxious, and next to her my best friend. In unison, they grin and share encouraging gestures my way. Seeing their supportive faces was all I needed to relax my nerves. I return a shaky smile as I look to the seat left of them and my heart drops. The auditorium was packed and his was the only empty seat.