For me, singing sad songs often has a way of healing a situation. It gets the hurt out in the open into the light, out of the darkness. – Reba McEntire
You flinched, raising a hand to the red mark on your face. Hearing a growl, you opened your eyes, one already starting to swell. You were met with the dark brown eyes of your father, the cloudiness of the many drinks swirling within them. You whimpered, trying to scoot yourself into the wall more as your hand reached up to the top of your head, feeling the warm liquid flow to the bottom of your face, the scarlet drop landing on your bruised leg.
“Now go get me some more beer, worthless whore. You better hurry up this time, or punishment will be worse.” He slurred his words, and his smelly dragon breath intertwined with the horrible scent of alcohol. You nodded, slipping past him. He gave a hollow laugh as you let out a strangled sob while scrambling through the front door. Not many people would notice you, (Town Name) was a small town and nobody would notice that you were only (Age), and being underage even to buy the drinks. You went into a small building in the forest behind your house, it being a small restroom like area. The water surprisingly still worked, and you were able to pluck the remaining shards of broken glass out of your forehead. You came to a rather large piece, letting out a small scream as you pulled it out. You coughed again, washing off the blood and exiting the restroom. You looked around, and pulled your hoodie up. You ran quickly, hoping to get to the liquor store in the next three minutes.
You entered the store, the automatic doors opening with a creak. The employee looked up from his phone with a bored look, while a spark flashed in his eyes while you walked by. You went to the normal aisle, and grabbed two large packs of beer. You walked back up and looked up to the tall blonde. His eyes lazily moved from the phone to you, and he put it down slowly before moving to the register.
“That it, doll?” His voice was smooth, and you cringed how sickly sweet it was. It seemed like he tried to lure you into something, and his piercing blue eyes weren’t helping.
“A bottle of that Caramel vodka.” You said quietly. He grabbed it from a shelf behind the counter and placed it in the bag with the rest.
“That’ll be… 18 dollars.”(Sorry if you use euros or something else. They don’t equal the same amount in the U.S and dollars are most familiar to me). You quickly handed over the money. He gave you the change, which was four dollars. You ran out of the store, running into a small next to it. You searched down the aisles, quickly finding the peroxide, string, needles, and some tissues. You hurried to the checkout, gathering your bags and scrambling out. You smiled lightly to yourself.
“Ok, so if the clock was right, I still have an hour. I can stitch up my forehead and go see Lynx.” Lynx was what you called that odd piano in the forest. It was very old, some of the keys were missing and it was off tune. But other than that, it was in quite good shape for being in storms and the occasional snowy winter. You first went to the restroom, and looked in the mirror. The cracks in the blue roof giving a small amount of light from the moon, so you were able to at least see your own two hands in front of your face. You took out the cleaning alcohol and applied it to a tissue. You hesitantly lowered it to the wound, then dropping it and biting your lip so hard it bled from the pain. New tears filled your eyes, as your shaking hand made its way to the needle and string. You tried to put the string through the tip, but after trying multiple times you quit. You leaned on the ivory sink, head near the nozzle.
“Here, let me help with that.” You whipped around, and came face to face with a blue mask. Well, that’s all you could see besides who you was a man, his auburn hair. Your eyes widened as you instantly flinched, putting your arms in front of your face for protection.
“It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. Well, the needles might, I guess…” You felt a gloved hand lower your arms watching with wide eyes. He put the string through the needle, and slowly put the sharp point through your skin. You gasped, hands clenching your sweatshirt.
“There, we're all done.” You sighed and looked back up again.
“T-Thank you. Is there anything I could do to help you with?” You gulped, trying to forget about the lingering pain.
“You’ve seen that piano out there right? It seems used, and you’re the only one out here. Well one of the only ones out here. Do you know any songs that you could play on there?” He tilted his head as you nodded slightly. You left the drinks where they were and headed outside. It took about five minutes to walk from the restroom to the piano. You sat down, thinking of a song. Well, it wasn’t hard. You only knew one, actually. Your dad taught it to you before your mom died, and before he turned into…..what he is now.
“ Drink up baby
Stay up all night
The things you could do
You won’t but you might” You paused, for a brief moment.
“ The potential you’ll be
That you’ll never see
The promises you’ll only make.” A small tear ran down your face as you skipped a missing key, sounding odd but still fitting in.
“ Drink up with me now
And forget all about the pressure of days
Do what I say and I’ll make you okay.
And drive them away, the images
In your head.” You stopped playing, sobs shaking your body as a warm hand was placed on your shoulder.
“Shh, now (Name). I will make everything okay. Just wait, and hard times will be over.”