Broken Keys
Dark’s fingers flew along the keys of his grand piano.
Since Mark has known how to read music for as long as Dark can remember, he used that skill (and his spare time) to learn piano.
Dark loved the feeling of his fingers soaring along the ivories. He loved how he could determine the emotions any singular person felt as his fingers brushed along the notes. He never felt more in control.
The songs he decided to play came straight from his damaged heart.
The one you hear him playing now feels similar to the way a swaying ship feels as it treks along the coast. You feel your torso and legs shift from one position to another as the waves curl up against the bottom of your boat. The waves begin swaying a bit. It isn’t too bothersome, but it is noticeable. After a while it feels as if you are about to fall off of your own ship as it tilts so high your feet slide. You hear thunder. The intense but distant warnings of a coming storm. The smell of burning electricity tickles your nose as you see a distant flash of light. It draws itself nearer and nearer, ever so slightly becoming more and more of a threat to your existence. The rain falls onto your forehead, and you can feel it’s cool embrace wrap you up like a present. It may be cold, but all you want to do is stay with it forever. The sound of thunder booming and electricity cracking makes you want to flee, but the cold’s hug tells you to stay. You sit and do nothing and watch as a single vein of lightning snaps down towards the water and strikes the bow of your boat. All you can do is watch. Your boat sinks as you stand wide eyed and in a daze. You feel yourself falling as the boat reaches a complete slant. The freezing water grabs your legs and pulls your head underneath, showing no mercy unlike the previous cold you once felt. You can see the bubbles exit your throat. The burning makes you want to close your eyes. It forces your body to shake and tremble as you feel the same cold come back and tell you to Just rest yourself. Your vision fades as you see nothing but darkness, and the same tender chill sends it’s way through your body.
Then he stopped playing.
“It’s not very fun, is it?” Dark asks you calmly as his fingers pulled away from the keys. “To feel as though you have hold of a situation, then to be told that you don’t.” He stands up and pulls out his pocket-watch-like object. He opens the top to reveal the broken mirror shards.
Dark’s eyes are stabbing their pupils into yours. You see only him, and what he wants you to see. You are seeing through his little pocket portal.
“Then to be constantly reminded that you did have a say in it, but that it’s too late.” He said through clamped teeth, “To not have any semblance of control of a situation you where know you can!” He practically shouted. He slammed the palm of his hand down on the piano, playing a gross sounding combination of notes.
Dark composed himself.
“Anyhow,” Dark adjusted his coat, “I suppose you would know what that’s like.” He tells you pitifully, “You are merely the viewer, after all.” Dark made a realization. “You have a say in all of this.”
Dark brushed off his shoulders.
“I guess that means I should be as angry towards you as I am towards him.” He cracked his neck. “But no matter.” He paused. “You don’t have a choice anyway.”
