Other Fan Fiction ❯ ..Lost in Sound.. ❯ Lost in Sound ( Chapter 1 )

Lost in Sound

Lina G.

 

Rain struck the tall glass window, making a steady sound that echoed though the room. The high ceiling, white marble floors and polished Victorian furniture made it seem hollow and lonesome.

In one of the old fashioned white chairs sat a girl, staring blankly out of the window, watching the steady rain. Her blush pink dress contrasted with the white fabric and dark wood of the furniture, making her soft, slightly tinted skin seem to glow. Her long, silken brown hair spilled onto the chair from two pigtails on the bottom of her head.

She sighed.

“Forsythia?” A voice echoed on the marble floors, resonating from outside of the room's open oak doors. The girl did not turn her gaze from the window.

“Yes?” Her voice was soft and sweet, like the rain outside of the mansion's windows.

A short, plump man stepped into the room, clad in a black tuxedo. His small, beady eyes flashed when he saw her.

“Why aren't your ready? We're leaving!” He barked. Forsythia tore her gaze away from the window. Her thin legs swing over the side of her chair, searching for her two pink shoes, that matched with her dress and the long, flowing ribbons in her hair.

“Come now, let's get a move on, or you'll be late.” The man took her arm and pulled her though the halls, their two sets of shoes clicking on the floor.

“Where are mother and father?” Forsythia asked quietly.

“They have already taken a car, now hurry, before we're too far behind.” The man sniffed. He opened a large, oak door and held an umbrella for the petite girl as they walked down a brick driveway, to where a large, white limousine was waiting. He opened the door for her and helped her inside of the main cab.

“Can I get anything for you, Miss Forsythia?” He asked, before shutting the door.

Forsythia shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

The plump man climbed up into the front seat and directed the driver where to go. Forsythia could overhear their muted conversation though the cab window, which was just a crack open.

“Is she alright?” That was the driver's voice.

“She's fine. Poor girl, though. She has so much talent, too…”

Forsythia turned to the window of the limo. She placed her fingertips against the cold glass, feeling the beat of the rain on her hand.

“So cold,” She breathed to herself. She looked to the left of her, her brown eyes searching the empty cabin, as if she was looking for another person.

“Forsythia.” She jumped. The plump man was tugging at her arm again. “Were here.”

Forsythia stepped out of the car and let the man bring her to the back door of a stadium. He led her inside and brought her to the edge of a vast wooden stage. The curtain hid the audience, but Forsythia could her he murmur of a huge crowd.

“Hey,” The plump man patted her on the shoulder. “Ready?” He asked. Forsythia nodded and did her best to smile.

“Do your best, kid.” He replied, and slunk off into the curtain shadow, leaving Forsythia to walk to the piano stationed in the middle of the stage.

Slowly, making sure that her strides were even, Forsythia made her way to the elaborate instrument, crafted by hand down to the gold designs on the sides and bench.

She ran her hand along the bench and sat down, pausing to take a breath. The curtain would go up and second now.

She placed her hands on the keys, not making a sound, put putting them in position. This was her shot. This was her only shot.

The red curtain billowed up, and the spotlight was directly on her.

“Presenting… Madame Forsythia Medina!” A voice cracked over the loudspeaker and the audience burst into applause.

But Forsythia could not see them.

She was lost in her own world, one where there was no cold, there was no rain. Her fingers moved across the piano, creating a melody so sweet and beautiful, the entire audience seemed to stop breathing.

The piano was the place that Forsythia had gone to free herself, ever since the car crash three years ago that killed her younger sister. The car crash that blinded her.

For just a moment in time, time stopped to hear her play.

As soon as Forsythia's melody was over, the entire stadium was in a hushed silence. The girl stood up, her blank brown eyes searching.

The crowd roared.

Forsythia took a small, dainty bow.

“This is for you, Garnet.” She whispered to herself, imagining all of the smiling faces in her mind. Among those faces was the face of her younger sister.

She smiled.