Bear Heart (Book 2)

Chapter 4

Hello everyone! At long last, the next chapter of Bear Heart! This chapter is for the two people who have stuck with this book through thick and thin, @Firestar11387 and crywilli97. Thank you so much! I'll try and start writing much more often now that I've found time! Hope you enjoy! God Bless! -Jocelyn

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     4. Midnight Thoughts

Her hands were gliding beautifully across the keys, the most beautiful sound emanating from the piano. The empty church was filled with such beautiful music that goose bumps arose on my arms, only to be made louder by it echoing off the walls. “You play really pretty, Mommy.” I said as she was done. I was eight years old at this time. She laughed. “Thank you, honey.” I skipped down the aisle of the church and up to the classic piano where my mother sat. “What’s it called?” My mother smiled. “Never Leaving.” She replied. “Who made it?” I asked. Would she ever get tired of my constant questions as a child? Sometimes I would ask dozens at a time. “I did.”

I released a small sigh of awe. “I want to play pretty like that one day!” I told her, a huge smile on my face. “Do want to learn how to play it?” She asked. I nodded eagerly. “Sure!” She patted the space next to her on the stool. I hopped up and placed my hands on the piano keys. “Okay, the first part goes like this.” She played a small portion of the song with her right hand, the notes coming out clearly and in a beautiful melody. She was playing it slowly so that I could keep up. “Do you think you can do that?” I nodded. “Sure I can! Just tell me where to put my fingers.” She pointed at the keys and put my fingers where they should, but my temper shortened as I saw no progress. My mother was very patient with me, and we stayed there for a good hour until I became restless and gave up.

“That’s it! I can’t do it! I just can’t do it!” I yelled into the church. “I’m just not meant to play piano.” My mother gave me a sympathetic smile. “Aw, honey, these things take time. The world wasn’t made in a day. Just keep practicing and I promise you’ll learn.” She tried to pull me into a hug but I simply pushed her away. “No, I give up!” Before she could stop me, I ran out of the church. “Clair!” She called after me. “Clairina, come back!”

My eyes suddenly opened, revealing my dark room. Realizing I was holding my breath, I slowly let it out and looked at the clock. It was a little past midnight. I sat up as I ran a hand through my messy hair. The call from NYPD kept replaying itself in my mind over and over. Were they really going to find my mother’s killer? Or was it just false hope? Deciding I needed a drink, I got up out of bed and went down to the kitchen.

I rummaged through the fridge, finding nothing. “Hey.” Someone said softly behind me. I whirled around, finding Ben at the edge of the stairs. I let out a sigh. “Hey.” I replied. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked. I shook my head. “Yeah, me either. You want some warm chocolate milk?” I cracked a smile. “Warm milk is for little kids who have nightmares.” Ben raised an eyebrow as he walked over to the fridge. “Oh, so I’m a little kid now?” He asked playfully. “You’ve always been a little kid.” I replied. He gave a half-hearted laugh as he poured the milk into two glasses and set them in the microwave.

“So why are you up this late?” He asked. I gave a sigh. “Flashback dream . . . It was of mom . . .” I replied. He nodded as he took the milk out of the microwave. “Why would somebody kill her, Dad?” I asked in a soft voice, taking a glass from him. He shook his head. “I don’t know, Clair. Your mother was a sweet, smart woman. Everybody liked her, even if they didn’t even know her. You can just look at her once, and you’ll immediately love everything about her . . .” I looked up at him. “Is that what happened to you?” I asked. “Yeah . . .” He replied softly.