A/N
This beautiful song was written by Ludwig van Beethoven.
Credits to the YouTube channel, Rousseau, for the video.
Enjoy!
I wake up back in the bedroom I woke up in yesterday. A glass of ice cold water is resting on the white table next to the bed.
My hair is loose around my body, acting as a fake shield. I wear a pink nightgown with short ruffled sleeves and a ruffled hem.
Honestly, I'm surprised I'm here.
I would have thought they'd send me back to the asylum. Clearly I'm not any better than I was when I was first taken there.
'You were kidnapped,' Mother had said.
But was that just an excuse?
An excuse so I forgot all about my previous life?
I sit up, and throw my legs over the side of the bed. The curtains are open, letting light pour into the room, filling it with brightness.
The exact opposite of how I feel right now.
I stand up. A wave of cold air washes over me. I wrap my hands over my arms, but it does little to help my shivering state.
Who put me in such a thin nightgown? Was it on purpose? Did they want me to feel cold and miserable?
I frown, and step forward towards the door that's closed tightly. My hand wraps around the chilly knob, and I push the door open.
A room filled with clothes greets me. Skirts. Shirts. Dresses. Shoes. There are bows and stockings and necklaces.
I've seen these clothes on the people I killed.
Sharp men.
Elegant women.
Cheerful children.
They're all dead. Every single one of them. All of the people I met. I pulled out my gun or knife, and I killed them.
How many people have I even killed? I lost count. It was easier that way. It was easier to try and forget that I am a monster on the inside.
I step into the room of clothes. It's like a store in here. Like the shopping centers that were easy to hide in. Easy to dispose and disappear in.
My eyes zone in on a fluffy light purple sweater. My hands reach out for it, and I slip it over my head.
The sweater fits me loosely, stopping at my waist and giving my torso and arms plenty of room. But it feels so warm. So soft.
With a smile on my face, I exit the clothing room, and then leave the bedroom. The hallway is empty, filled with closed doors.
Where is my family?
Have they left me here?
Will the nurses or Sir come back and take me away soon?
Should I try and escape now? Or should I stay and accept my fate— lifelong misery?
I shrug, and continue down the hallway. I venture down the stairs, down another hallway. I've never been able to wander before. At the Center, we were strictly monitored.
This feeling is exhilarating.
I stop at a pair of wooden double doors. They smell like a forest. I reach forward and push it open and step inside.
It smells like heaven in here. There is a massive shelf of books the reaches the top of the high ceiling. There are leather seats, a table with chess carved into it, and a massive piano near the window that takes up the whole wall.
The piano is practically calling me. My fingers twitch with longing. My brain and my heart are fighting each other.
My brain yells at me: "Don't you remember all of the bad things that happened with a piano? Huh? Don't go over there!"
My heart calls out: "But don't you love it? Don't you want your fingers to press down on the keys and listen to beautiful sounds?"
After standing there for at least three minutes, my heart wins the battle in my mind. I settle onto the bench, and lift the lid.
Memories swarm my mind.
Isn't she such a doll?
Hold still, little one.
Keep playing for me.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Take a deep breath.
My fingers move automatically across the keys. Even as I become comfortable, my eyes remain closed. My posture relaxes.
A smile forms onto my lips.
My body begins to slightly sway with the music.
I imagine myself in the middle of a field full of flowers. Far away from Sir and the asylum. Far away from all my worries.
Just me and my piano.
Perfect paradise.
The song ends faster than I'd have liked. My eyes open. I straighten up, place my hands in my lap, and stare down at the keys. My feet sway.
My senses spike when I feel people behind me. I feel their breathes. Their movement. Their confusion and their awe.
Suddenly they begin to clap.
I glance over my shoulder and see Mother and Father standing there. They're smiling brightly, majestically.
I stand up immediately and turn to face them, my legs bumping into the bench. My eyes are wide in fear. I subconsciously reach behind my neck and trace my number.
102
102
102
Is that all I'll ever be?
"That was wonderful, Lila! I didn't know you could play the piano. You're a prodigy. How did you learn?" My mother talks with great enthusiasm with makes me paranoid.
Sir was enthusiastic with my musical gift.
Look where that got me.
"Sir— Ivanov taught me," I mumbled.
She stops and frowns for a moment, but she nods, her smile quickly coming back. She takes me into her arms and hugs me tightly.
"Feel free to come to this room whenever you'd like, Lila. I loved hearing the piano being played. It hasn't been used for years," Father sighs with a grin.
I nod, and muster out a 'Thank you.'
Why is he acting like I'll be staying?
Aren't they going to send me away soon?
"When will I be leaving?" I ask, deciding to just face my fears and quit acting like a little pathetic coward.
Mother breaks away from me, outrage swimming in her eyes. "What? Who gave you the idea that you'd be leaving us?"
"I'm still crazy. Aren't I going back to the... asylum?"
Mother begins to wildly shake her head. "No! No! Of course you are not going back to that dreadful place. You were never supposed to be there in the first place."
Her tone is so sincere. She grips my hands with concern. I gaze into her eyes filled with utter love for me. No one else. Just me.
Such a feeling.
All of these new feelings.
I've never experienced them before.
I like them.
I like it here. And I don't want to leave. Ever.
Tears well up in my eyes. I let out a choked sob. Suddenly Father is right next to us, his arms engulfing both Mother and me.
"I love this," I whisper. "Here. With you."
Father hugs us tighter. "I love you, Lila."
My heart is exploding with pure joy.
I'm
So
So
So
Happy
This is what I've always wanted. Ever since I was a scared toddler at the asylum. This is the only feeling I've craved.
J o y
———
Hello, loves!
This chapter was a bit slow, not too much action, but it shows more of Lila's inner thoughts and her passions.
Hopefully you liked this mini family bonding bit.
I'll be updating shortly.
Au revoir,
Eva