• She sits upon her cold, black bench, of her grand piano. As her fingers gently touch the yellow-stained keys, she recites what she is going to play, making sure she plays it perfect. Although she has played this song over a hundred times she wants it to be better than it has ever been before . A tear falls upon one of the black keys. Finally, when she is ready, her fingers strike the first keys, she slowly sways as she plays, her black hair and black silk dress swaying with her, as if it was part of the music. Her black pearls also seam as if they are dancing with the piano music. She closes her eyes, as if she too is being pulled into the sweet sound of the piano.

    As she is lost within the sounds of the hammers striking the copper stings in her piano she almost forgets the depression that lurks around her, forgets about all of the poverty and starvation. Her house trembles, as if it too is finally forgetting all the sadness. A loud thunder like sound breaks through the sound of the piano, and all of a sudden she is pulled back into reality. A bomb in the distance was responsible for the interruption, and a few seconds later, the shrieks of women and children. She now plays harder, trying to forget, trying to block out the terrible sounds of despair. Roars of gunfire follow, and then the war sirens are set off, like a scream of a thousand women. Now it is almost impossible for her to hear her music, but she continues, putting all her weight into the keys. Another rumble roars throughout her house, causing a bloody knife to shutter, then fall from the highest ledge of the piano. The blood, still warm, trickles all upon the
    stone tile floor.

    More tears begin to run down her smooth cheeks, some finding refuge between her red lips. The taste of salt sends a bitterness through her mouth. She is an only child, rich, but is only seventeen years of age. And now she feels like a child, whimpering from the fear within her, but it is not just fear , but anger as well. Her father has gone to fight in this cold and bitter war, and her mother died when she was just six years old.

    She fealt as if the whole world is sitting upon her shoulders, crushing her at every move it makes, she remembers why she has done what she has. After her father left just a few weeks before, followed by the maids, it felt like the last bit of the world was taken away from her. She refused to leave with the other children, because she thought of her self as an adult.

    As she plays the piano with all the strength she has left within her, the blood slowly trickles from her recently slit wrists, which she slit before she started to play the piano for the last time, faster now, because she has been playing the piano for a few minutes. It starts to cause the piano keys to become slippery, and her fingers start to slip from time to time. But she will not give up, she will play her song for the last time. Her determination surprises her, and she starts to wonder if she has done the right thing. She wonders if she should have given the world a second chance for the horrendous abilities it has granted its inhabitants. The ability to hate, to kill, to despise, and to loath. Is there a right to all this wrong? Yet it is becoming too late for her to
    uncover the answer, was has been done had been done.


    The life is now quickly draining from her, crimson blood spilling upon her lap, and the ivory keys are now red-stained with blood. As the last bit of life starts to fade from her she remembers a memory. The memory is one from ten years ago, but it is quite clear in her mind. She is in the market with her father and mother, who is still alive at the time. She remembers that it was Sunday, and one of the warmest days of the year. Church had just ended, and the market was flooded with people, all buying items that they would need for the coming week.


    In Russian, her first language, she asks her mother why she is had been so sad lately.

    Her mother, answering back in Russian, says that she wouldn’t understand, and that nothing was wrong.

    Although she is so young, she still understands something is being hidden from her, and so she continues to ask her mother why she is so sad.

    This time her mother looks over to her father, who has a worried look on his face, they whisper quietly to one another, and then both turn back to their daughter. They explain that a doctor has told her mother that she is very ill, and that her mother may die soon.

    Sadness overcomes her now, yet she does not cry, as since she is of such a young age she does not fully understand the concepts of death.

    Her mother gently kneels down to eye level, her black hair gently blowing in the breeze. She then explains to her daughter something she must never forget, she explains that no matter what happens in life, no matter how horrible it may seem at times, it will always get better, it will always heal. she then tells to her daughter to never give up, no matter what, never give up. then she asks her daughter if she will promise.


    And then she promises.

    Now, as she remembers this, she understands that she has been ignorant, even though the world fights and kills, it will one day heal, it will always heal. She now feels that she has let her mother down on her word, that she has broken the promise that she has made several years ago. As the regret seeps through her, and weakness overcomes her, her fingers stop pounding the keys, her head slowly sinks down upon the bloody, red-stained keys, pressing them down, and creating that last note she will ever hear. Her eyes slowly shut, and she lets go of her final breath.

    By: Eternal Optimism