I was definitely not an easy child. I ran around with the neighbors's children, I pulled pranks on elderly people and when I came home I made everything dirty with my shoes and overalls full of mud.
My first font memory of being still was, when I first heard Liz Buxbaum play the piano. Up in till that point, Liz was just the weird girl that sadly lived next to us and that me and my friends would regularly tease, because she made weekly plays on her own, was always singing songs she made up herself and would get the funniest red cheeks when being irritated.
I remember great times of us boys putting a decapitated gnome into the little library she loved so much, or a frog into her dollhouse. Most of those things we did to her were my ideas, and I was very fine with the idea of her hating me, as annoying her was funny and everything else about her was odd.
But I also remember a day where I was outside, playing with one of my newest possessions, a little red truck, when I heard someone playing the piano. I normally would have never left my red truck unattended, but I was interested in where that noise was coming from so that I somehow forgot about it.
The Buxbaum's had a small fence that kept their garden separated from the front of the street but I had always been pretty sporty so I had no problem climbing over it. Next thing I know I was hovering over their back porch looking through a window into their cozy looking living room.
And there she was.
I don't think I have ever been that stunned before, as I have always been a loud kid, not being able to keep my mouth closed for a second. But there I was, standing on a stool I had found on their porch to be tall enough to glance into their home, watching Liz Bauxbaum play the piano in a way that altered my brain chemistry, not being able to take my eyes from her.
She looked beautiful, so in her element, and i wondered how I had never seen that beauty before when looking at her. From that moment on, I often sat on their back porch listening to her playing, sometime even singing, and those were my happiest hours. Listening to her made me forgot everything else, and it also changed the view I had of her outside of the safety of their garden stool.
From that moment on, I was absolutely in love with Liz Buxbaum.
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She's Like the Movies - a "Better Than the Movies" fanfiction
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