The Ivory Keys

He sat back straight, head bowed, his hands on the ivory piano keys. Motionless.
Forever motionless now. Forever voiceless.
A single tear fell onto the keys as he withdrew his hands, no notes played.
Bandaged as they were he'd only create noise instead of music.
Unbandaged....it would be the same.

He exhaled in a shaky breath. With time, the doctors said he'd regain some use of his hands.
Some.
Not all.
It had already been too long, with too little progress.
Reluctantly, he slid from the piano bench, standing.
Shattered dreams. That's what he had left.

"Do you hate him?"
He whirled around, eyes searching the darkened piano hall. "Who's there?" He called out. Why would anyone be here at night? Let alone a woman?
"Do you hate him?" she repeated, her voice coming from a different direction. "The one who broke your hands?" She continued as he turned again to the source of her voice.
"It...was an accident." he said slowly, holding his injured hands close to his chest. "My own fault...." He couldn't just let the boy die. If he'd been faster....they both could have gotten out uninjured.
"You have yet to answer my question though, Jack. Do you hate him?"
Again, the voice from a different direction. He frowned. "No, alright. I don't hate the boy. Why do you want to know so badly?"
"Because I don't help people with hatred in their hearts. It never ends well."
"I don't need help." He retorted under his breath. "I can do just fine on my own."
"You give up on your dreams that quickly, Jack? What if I was offering to fix your hands? So you could play once more."
Jack frowned. "The doctors said."
"I'm not a doctor, I work....differently."
"I'm not a fool to trust in mystic cures--"
Her laughter echoed unnaturally through the hall. "Not desperate for help are you?"
"I'm aware of my circumstances, that's all." He said looking down at his hands. "Of course I'd love to play again, piano has been my life. But if I have to give it up in order to save another. I'd call it a fair trade."

-Inspiration from watching an Episode of Detective Conan, where a talented pianist ends up getting his hands injured.

Smoke

It was the smoke.

Somewhere in the valley, there's a fire burning.
A strong one too, where the smoke is permeating everywhere.
Normally I don't mind campfires.

But campfire smoke is something else entirely.
For some reason the smell is rather irritating to me.
And campfire smoke likes to 'stick' to things.

Like hair.
So even when you leave the fire.
Your hair still smells like it.

I don't like it when that happens.
Because then it still smells like there is smoke all around me even when there isn't.

Which tends to irritate me and cause me headaches.

So tonight, somewhere there was a fire burning, and while I was outside on an errand....the smoke stuck. XP bleh.

Thankfully I could take a shower once I got home to get rid of the scent.
But it didn't stop the headache from happening. :(

Brain: Hey!! What about this cool idea for a story!
Me: O.O Oooo!!!
Brain: Right?! And it will go like this and this and that and this.
Me: Wait. Wait. WAIT!! We need to be going to bed. We need to sleep. No more story ideas.
Brain: But this!
Me: NO!!
Brain: Fine. *pouts* What about having imaginary work conversations instead?! That could be fun.
Me: O.O No. No. I change my mind. Go back to the story ideas.
Brain: Okay!!!
*ends up awake for most of the night.*

Togetherness

It was the group work.

I hate it when we have to do groups, no matter the situation. I really do.
And it seems like my new ward at church is overly fond of that particular teaching strategy.

This is the third time I've been to the ward.
And every single time in Relief Society there is a moment where they have us get into groups to answer some random question.
>.<
I experienced it just once in one of the Sunday School classes, once was enough. I managed to find a class that didn't do the group work.

Still couldn't manage to avoid it in Relief Society though.
And today, annoyingly enough, the group work lasted most of the time.

Like I said.
I don't like group work.
As that requires talking to other people.
And I prefer to listen, take notes, and just do my own thing --like writing down story ideas as I can focus really well on that in church when I can't elsewhere.

So the fact that I was in group work once more again today. Where I couldn't focus on what I wanted to focus on.

Got on my nerves.
And when things get on my nerves.
It tenses me up.

Add to that that there was a girl behind me with hiccups that were annoyingly consistent....

I ended up with a slight headache.
Thankfully, it didn't last long. This time.

A Moment To Myself

I grabbed my favorite set of blankets, wrapping them around me as I turned off the lights and settled down into a corner, pulling one blanket over my eyes, to make the darkness darker.
A moment to myself.
A moment to be vulnerable.

They didn't realize how much I had been hurt by their words.
How much I wanted to fight back.
But I'd learned long ago that fighting back only resulted in more pain and more fights.
It was a never ending cycle.

That didn't mean that staying quiet was easier.
That plastering a smile on my face to pretend I wasn't affected.
I was.
But I wouldn't show them that it did.

They wouldn't win.
I rested my head on my knees.
They wouldn't win.

-Inspiration from negative experiences

Brain: We should draw.
Me: You know we're not that great at drawing.
Brain: But just think!! COMICS!! We could illustrate our stories! We could draw scenes! We could do so much!!
Me: But we aren't that good at drawing. We'll get frustrated. Remember. We've gotten frustrated before.
Brain: Come on, just think. Imagine it. The pictures. The colors.
Me: And which hand exactly is going to draw this? Because neither one of ours can currently.
Brain: Who knows! We may have suddenly developed a talent. Lets try it!
Me: *draws*
Brain. *wails* WHY IS IT NOT LOOKING LIKE WHAT I IMAGINED??!!?
Me: Because. We. Can't. Draw.
Brain: *continues wailing*

Brain: You know, we've been watching a lot of mysteries recently.
Me: Yah, it's a good show.
Brain: Yes it is! But you know what would be super cool?
Me: *exhales* What??
Brain: What if we started doing a weekly blog post where we do a murder mystery! Where we show a crime and then see if the readers of the blog figure out who the culprit is before we reveal them!
Me: ....So...basically write a story about a murder and let the readers solve it.
Brain: Exactly!
Me: That sounds intere---
Brain: So! First we need to come up with a murder scene, then provide some clues to who the murderer is. Next we definitely need some suspects. What do you think three? or five? Five could be good. Now we'd also need a motive, and....huh....do you think we should have pictures of the crime scenes and the suspects? That means we'll need some volunteers, some photos, lots of props, some good locations---