The truth in our songs

Chapter 22

Blake-Achlys Huxley

With the worn piece of paper in my hand I walked into the music room and threw my bag carelessly onto the floor before shutting the door behind me. If anyone would dare to disturb my calm mind right now I would chose death for that person. My forcus was glued to the odd dusty paper in my hand. It looked thrown away or simply lost but what had been found could be kept, right? Of course I wasn't some random fuck who walked around the school corridors and picked up kid's trash from the floor. There were people for that. I only lied my eyes on things that seemed to be unwillingly left behind.

Today was a cold day. The windows were shut and our curtains closed, which let the sunbeams discover the slits between the heavy fabric in front of the glassed frames. I felt my breath relax as I made my way up to the stage and sat on top of it. Comfortable silence. It was that kind of silence I longed for, a kind of rest my mind found between all the stormy days. Even though I bathed myself in rainy days which happened very often since England was such a place, my being sometimes just needed a touch of music to free itself. At the moment it was not me who wanted such a day but I felt like someone foreign needed it more.

I took my phone out of my pocket and turned its torch on. With the bright light placed beside me, my hands unfolded the sheet and dark eyes hungrily searched for the words they'd catched on at the school hallway. This was not brilliant neither talented, the crooked words, scratched down with a black pen almost looked grievous, sharp and so honest- never had I read such honesty before. It impressed and disgusted me at the same time, some things better should be left unsaid. Why removing all the barriers?

Not everyone liked reading such things, not everyone liked hearing such things and not everyone liked relating to them. The truth was disgusting, particulary on paper but above all, shameful if it left someone's mouth. I didn't have to be a liar to still know how to not lie, I never lied, the difference was that my truths weren't so baring. Mine were quick and painless but this one was slow and aching.

I shook my head and folded it back to its previous state. I could change it a bit here and there, could twist some words on my tongue to make them sound dilisciously audible but this song, could help our band, could make the band greater. Maia had left us and nothing better could have happened to me in that moment. She was encumbrance, a burden.

I didn't need the blond haired sight each week, I didn't need slate eyes stab mine each time we sang a line together, I didn't need her annoying ulgy yellow bag lie on the floor beside mine as soon as her tiny feet walked through these doors. I despised the way she seemed to go through life, carelessly, detached and uninterested because it reminded me so much of myself. This strange girl was for sure nothing like me and yet I sometimes saw a glimpse of my movements in hers, like a shadow dancing behind delicate features. It was as if my shadow was drawn to hers and detached itself from me as soon as it saw her. He glorified this strange creature, stayed close behind her and imitated every movement Maia made, repeated every word and and watched her with fascination. I had tried to catch it, to grab that shilouette with my fingers but it always slipped through them. But as long as Maia was gone, it stayed with me.

,, Doesn't look like you're going to a party today. ,, Dillon commented who suddenly stood in the door of the music room. I lifted my head to look at him but already found the curly black-haired boy stare back at me with crossed arms. He loved looking mysterious, didn't he?

,, I'm not feeling like going to one. ,, I replied and he nodded shortly. Those parties were shit, above all if they got thrown by a girl. These cheerleaders didn't do drugs or anything of the good stuff, were dressed in tight short dresses and covered faces, it looked cheap and was a total turn-off. I was not enjoying sucking a girl's face off if it was full of make up- that was disgusting.