The Obsolete by Cama Seeney (essential reading TXT) 📕

ever. Its white, the image of a white rose springs into my mind. One that lies in the sun with rain glistening off of it. The sides and legs as engraved with swirls that are found normally on that of a nineteenth century bed. The closer I walk into the room the more I see the gold lining the engraves. I sign and sit on the window seat running my hands over the ivory keys. My fingers spread out and begin playing even though I didn’t want them to. I didn’t want to lose myself. No one can heal the world with that of simple yet beautiful piano. As soon as the first note is stuck that thought fly’s from my thoughts.

 

I ignore the book in front me knowing what I was going to play before I do.

 

My fingers picking a beat my brain respond to. My ears and heart already have, there’s no room for thinking when your fingers have control.

 

One hand plays dark deep notes whist my voice sings a popular song but my hearts not in it. I sigh and stop singing, I focus on the notes. Closing my eyes I remember the first day I walked into a music class. I must have been around seven, I had already started fighting but I never seemed to have the grace that Lexi portrayed whilst she played.

 

A boy sneered at me saying my tiny hands wouldn’t be able to reach. That he was better at me, so similar to what some said before I kicked there buts (I was seven but is as bad as it came back then). I played my hands on the board and closed my eyes, I pictured where her fingers were. I was so mesmerized that I even began playing, the notes weren’t as fast or as good as hers but I could do it.

 

As soon as my Mom came to collect me in school she asked me why I punched the kid. I replied he deserved it, we didn’t mention it again but she began teaching me herself. She had told my dad that I needed more energy releasing activities and a week later we were running partners.

 

I keep my eyes closed. I remember the notes. I remember the sounds. I just need my fingers to show me. And then I was playing it. The song that taunted my dreams so beautifully. The keys were cool and slick under my hands. The seat was comfortable though my back did ache. I didn’t know how long I’d been sat here now.

‘You’re good but that wasn’t yours.’ A voice called from the door, it echoed and rumbled around me. I began playing something softer, it was almost like butterfly kisses. I didn’t want to open my eyes so I didn’t. I didn’t mind the guy in the doorway.

 

‘No your right it wasn’t.’ I replied smiling softly. ‘Are you my new teacher?’ I asked my foot bouncing up and down. ‘I don’t know am I?’ He asked me, I could hear his smile before heard it. ‘Can you play something of yours?’ He asked. I nodded automatically playing a song I knew by heart.

 

I never knew you,

Even if I wanted too.

I can’t see you,

I can’t hear you.

 

Your voice doesn’t echo through my head,

Your tear doesn’t fall down my cheek

Even though you’re not here standing beside me.

 

I never knew you,

Even if I wanted too.

I can’t see you,

I can’t hear you.

 

I can’t wonder if she’s proud

I can’t try.

 

I can’t shed a tear for someone who was never there,

 

 

You were lost to me

Never found in a closet or a picture

You aren’t a memory

You aren’t in my heart.

 

 

I never knew you,

Even if I wanted too.

I can’t see you,

I can’t hear you.

 

You’re not here standing beside me!

You can’t tell me good night with a smile.

You’re not standing here beside me.

Even though you saved my life.

I don’t know you…

 

My voice trails off defeated. I sigh knowing the song was ridiculous, it was the first song I had even written. It helps me remember why I play. I open my eyes and meet the almost chocolate browns of the man standing still. His hair is a mess of curls that seriously needed brushing. Over his small nose was a sprinkling of freckles, he was tall and thin. Wearing jeans with holes in them and a nicely fitting blue jumper. His sneakers stuck out from underneath.

 

I smiled I liked that he didn’t look serious or moodily like most of my old teacher (Lexi the exception). ‘Hi, I’m Victoria.’ I told him feeling better. He walked into the room slowly and sat next to a guitar, picking it up he played a few random strings before leaving it in his arms. ‘Ah the infamous’ He replied winking at me devilishly, to which I quickly rolled my eyes. ‘I’m…’ He didn’t get to finish. ‘Mr White, there’s kids fighting again!’ A small voice called from outside, he sighed ‘We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Go to the library or something.’ He told me before leaving the room at a quick jog. Well that was odd. I thought gathering my bag – it was nearly ten anyway – lunch was in fifteen minutes.

 

Instead of heading to the Library liked he’d asked I wanted to check out the rest of the second floor. I quickly exited the room and walked over to where music seemed to echo down the hallway. The grey carpets were ugly but what else is to be expected? It’s a dance studio. There was a bunch of what I presumed popular girls and they were dancing and giggling to the music – something about shaking their butts. I rolled my eyes and walked passed – they looked to be only around twelve. That took up the whole of this side of the hallway. Turning left (which was weird the classrooms were supposed to be on my right not my left- the hallways surrounded the outside of the classrooms) I found more classrooms. This one led to a big art studio – another beside it. Weird that music and art was on the same floor – I think the rooms were sound proofed until the doors opened.

 

What appeared to be a drama room was next. This took up the whole of the second to last side. On the last there was people fighting, more importantly brad was holding his bleeding nose. I jogged up to him and fetched a spare bunch of tissues from a plastic packet that I'd shoved into my bag at some point. ‘Here. Keep your face elevated.’ I told him – giving him a bunch. My music teacher stood next to a small girl of around twelve, she was truly tiny. Her long brown hair was braided down her back.

 

Devon stood beside her looking angry more with himself than anyone else, I thought he’d hit his brother until the stupid guy from earlier pranced passed grinning, licking his lips once he passed the little kid. ‘Leave her alone you jack ass.’ I whispered when he passed me. ‘And what will you do princess?’ He asked in that condescending voice of his. A girl with red hair skipped up to him  ( stinking of hair dye and somthing rotting) and linked her arm through his – she wore all black (if you could say all, she was barely wearing anything) her boots looked massive for her tiny frame. She hissed at me and took a step toward the little girl.

 

‘I said leave her.’ I said louder this time, stepping in front of this bitch. ‘She’s ours.’ She whispered, voice like the purr of a cat. ‘No one is yours.’ I retorted crossing my hands over my chest. ‘Darling get the walking blood bag away from me before I take a sip.’ She whispered, I nearly cringed – what the actual fuck? Ew. ‘Try it.’ I hissed back sounding surer of myself then I had in a long time. I didn’t like people who threatened others. Especially if they wore very cute school uniforms (mening she was in A levels – five years ahead or more of her the uniform wearer) ‘Your momma ever told you not to pick on kids?’ I asked with a sour expression. ‘Shut up Tori everyone knows it was yours that taught me manners.’ She snarled trying to pull out of Landons amused hold. ‘You know what he said darling, soon can’t you feel it?’ He asked sounding gleeful. Did he mean Calvin? The creep from yesterday?  How did she know my mother? I shudder involuntary and the guy – Landon? Grinned.

 

‘What is coming?’ I asked stepping forward – I could almost feel her breath on my face, it creeped me out but I wasn’t about to back down now. The girl sneered again outwardly laughing at me. ‘Oh you should know Tori, you’re the only one who got away. Your the reason I'm here’ She retreated laughing down the corridor. 

 

 

Misplaced distrust

Chapter 9

 

To trust someone is one thing, it's a given. You don't trust strangers unless your well stupid or trusting. But when you don't know where years of your life were spent mistrust is your life style. Mistrust could be my second name, it literally could be. 

 

I stared after the girl with a sence of da ja vo, it was odd. Of course I've felt this before but it was almost like this conversation should have gone diffrently. Once it may have. Her stupid swaying hips matched her just as stupid devils grin. Something was going on here. The girl rapped herself around Landon 'Bethany come on darlin.' He called. 

 

Bethany? Where have I heard that before? 'Beth.' I gasped out. I remembered. There was a short girl at the end of my bed. 'Tor?' She called, her voice as soft as her curley brown hair. Dressed in light clothes that never matched. She bounched up and down on the spot. 'Hi I'm your crazy best friend.' She called out smiling bigger. I couldnt help it. Something in me craved to smile back. She was so innocent, so friendly. All of the horrible things I had, had to sit and listen to over and over since waking. She was the only nice thing left. 

 

Beth. What if beth is my fault. I dropped my bag onto the floor, I remember somthing else. Something in a picture? I knelt beside it, scrambling for a picture I know was somewhere there. Sighing I pulled out an old beaten purse, opening it revealed a array of pictures - some mine some hers. The first revealed a pictue of my two mothers, the second a baby picture of me the third a picture of me and my farther - Beth smiling in the back ground. My mothers purse. And there we sat side by side, on a hospital bed. Me covered in so many scraped and bruises holding her hand so tightly it was as white as bone. This wasn't her picture it was the first of mine. Above us a dark and dingy window. Even dinger was the figure that leaned in. 

 

My