Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

How To: Live Again

Mr. Carrey's voice rang through the gym. "Here to sing and play a solo piece written by her is Skye Harmony!"

I walked slowly across the stage. My breath came in large gasps. I smiled shyly at my teacher as we passed each other on the stage. He squeezed my arm for comfort in passing.

I continued over to the beaten-down school piano and pulled my knee-length black dress out so I could sit down on the creaky bench. My long, curly brown hair fell across my face with the pin-on faux diamonds stuck on in the dozens.

I tried to keep my eyes off of the crowd as I whispered into the microphone, "This is Rain."

I positioned my fingers on the keys and began to play. I could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on my face as the music washed over the crowd. I let my music seep into my soul and I could feel my heart echoing it's cry through the notes. The tune was soft but strong.

I had written my words first. A month after the...accident Mr. Carrey had helped me to write the music. He was the one who had taught me how to love my music again. He reminded me of my promise.

I began to sing when it was time. Mother had always told me that my voice could make angels cry. I hadn't truly believed that until I saw Mr. Carrey crying as I finished my song the first time I sang it. And if anyone deserved the title 'Angel' it was Mr. Carrey.

I could see people in the crowd who I knew knew my story. Tears were running down their faces at my heart-rending words. I sang loud. My hate-filled and grief-stricken song coursed through my body before it passed my trembling lips.

As I sang I let myself fall into the music. In those moments I was a Siren, singing for love. In those few precious minutes I was who God had destined me to be. I thanked Him for this night. No matter how much I had fought Him and even hated Him, He hadn't left my side.

I could feel a hundred hearts beating with mine. I could feel their pain at just simply knowing mine. I could feel the music move them. As it moved me. All of my senses deserted me but my hearing and feeling intensified. I could feel the music flow through everyone in the room.

As my voice grew louder and the notes were longer, I could feel my spirit soar across the stage, across time, and stop slowly in my old home. They were all there: Mother, Tracy, Caitlyn and even Jim. All of them looked at me with tearful faces.

"That sounds beautiful, Baby." Mom smiled through her tears.

I started to leave the room as the song ended. I wanted to go back to hold them, but I knew that, as long as my soul soared with my music, they would be waiting.

The song ended abruptly as I entered my tired, frightened and nervous body. My fingers wouldn't move from the keys. They were bricks. I could feel tears drip off of my chin and onto the keys. Finally, I got up the courage to look up. Almost every face in the crowd was crying. I smiled lightly and stood up. As I did, the stunned crowd erupted into incredibly loud applause. A few people stood up and soon, the entire room of people were standing and clapping. Whistles and calls rang through the thunderous noise.

I walked slowly up to the front of the stage and bowed slightly. Mr. Carrey came out and smiled at me. He took the microphone from the stand and began to speak.

"I met Skye four months ago. She had just come back to this school after her family was shot and killed. She was lost and wouldn't let anyone find her. She quit her music despite her old choir teachers' and my protests.

"But then, one day I found her tapping on my piano and singing bits of that beautiful song. I have to admit I might have been crying a bit." The crowd laughed quietly.

"It took a while to convince her, but eventually she agreed to sing tonight. I have to tell you that this girl is the most incredible, enduring and talented person I've ever met. Through great tragedy she prevailed. I wish there were more people like her in this world."

The crowd broke into applause again and I could feel myself blush. I was transported in time. I lay next to Caitlyn, the only one who survived for more than a few minutes.

Her breathing was labored and cracked in my arms. I could feel that she was wet on her stomach and back. Tears dripped down my face and fell on hers as I looked at my beloved sister. Caitlyn looked up at me and tried to smile.

"You got him," I looked at my dead father, my mother's ex-husband, lying on the floor near the door just next to Jim, Mom's new husband. I nodded and touched Caitlyn's blood-drenched face with my red hands.

"Yes I did," I answered quietly between choked sobs. I barely noticed the bullet hole in my left shoulder. Not until later. I didn't matter then.

"Skye, I need you to do something for me." Caitlyn was losing consciousness fast. I could hear the sirens in the distance. Someone must have heard my father's gunshots.

"Anything," I whispered fervently.

"Just...live," Caitlyn's eyes went dead as a smile played on her lips. I was screaming loudly when the paramedics came through the door. I was gripping Caitlyn as though she was about to fall down a deep hole. I was catatonic for a week after and woke up screaming again.

Well, I'm living, Caitlyn. I thought as I bowed again to the roaring crowd and stepped off of the stage and into Aunt Marsha's arms.

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