A Song Of Mine free porn video

The autumn wind blows a soft lullaby as the ruffle of the trees’ dying leaves pay homage to the color of the season. Together with the cold breeze came the hymn of a young ballad that sung with the season’s call. The innocent tune resounded through the stone paths and old foliage, leading to the windows of a humble home. In a little room, one can glance at the image of a little girl and a grand piano. From her little fingers, she played the keys in the ways of a budding talent. Inexperienced but full of life, the melodies she made enchanted the season with her grace.

And when the final note was sounded, a lone applause was returned to her. It was the eager applause of a girl of her splitting image. Born of the age, gender, and image, their lives were interwoven together. An elder one who weaves the music that speaks to the soul, and her little sister who admires her more than she knows, they are the twins of the house who brought life to their lonely home.

The younger one cannot hide her fascination and in gratitude, her elder sister nudged her to take a sit beside her. Then she made her touch the keys of the instrument. The little one began with hesitation and refusal in her heart but her elder sister held her hand, welcoming her to the craftsmanship that she thought she can only admire from afar. In unison, they brought life to the most vivid of music just as the linked souls that they were.

And in this little moment, the little girl made the wish: “I wish we could be this happy forever.”

Leira

Under my command, I played the keys of the piano with a fiery passion. From simple notes on paper, I carved out the phantasmal music that was alive with its enchanting dreams. Accompanied by no one, my melodies took flight in a solitary dominion, enthralling every ear that was graced by my presence. In this grand hall, not a peep dared to make a sound - all was humbled by the call of my art.

After the final key, I was greeted by the familiar sound of silence - an audience mesmerized by the illusion that I casted. Then, they woke up in a thunderous applause, showering me with words of glee. I was adored like a saint, blessed by the most recognized authorities. And in response, I gave them a smile of appreciation before I bowed and slowly descended down the stage.

It was my awaited performance in the audience of the most important members of society. Men and women of the elite stood before me in their finest clothes. With glasses of wine in their hand, they spoke of their nonchalant chatter of fortune and power. It was a dinner party where any imperfections are forbidden. And standing as the most beautiful one of them all was I who brought them the music that I performed at their impatient request.

As if forgetting that they were people of respectable names, they crowded on me like a rare and precious gem. And in return for their patronage, I answered each one of them with words of gratitude and humility.

Only the greatest can earn to walk in this stage, and to earn the praise of such people brings me with honor that cannot be matched with words. However, within the ocean of smiles and laughter, I could feel a shadow behind my back - whispering in my ears the messages that cannot be drowned. Though I stood with a smile, the blood in my veins was running cold.

Lost in my shaking spirit, I entertained the crowd without knowing it. The cheerful chatter and exchange of merriment failed to register and, in turn, I spoke words that I cannot understand. But I hid it all. While I held an image as beautiful as the flowers that they offer, I am being ensnared by a ghastly voice.

“Sickening. Loathsome. Dreadful “ the voice spoke. Ugly and disfigured, the voice in head made me shiver from fright “Is this really all that you can muster, you lying thief?”

My stomach churched cold and frozen as the unpleasant experience took over but I kept my cool until I finally had the opportunity to walk away. As I took the steps to my room, the sound of my footsteps resounded through the empty hallway. No longer having an image to protect, my mask of smile readily fell. Through the glass wares and polished steel, I saw the reflection of my face distort into an unsightly one.

On the lounge, I was greeted by my manager “Hey, what’s with the long face?” she asked, obviously a bit tipsy “You just had the elites as your audience. Chin up and chest high, my darling.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just exhausted, I guess” I replied softly.

“Oh, I know how you feel.” She then wrapped me in a caring embrace. Her warm skin against my cold and sweating body immediately soothed me with calm “There, there,” She cooed as she stroked my back “You must have been frightened, right? No worries, dear. It’s just temporary.”

After being calmed down, I finally had the courage to smile again. And when I looked up to her, she wiped away a tear from my eye that I did not even notice. “Calm now?”

“Yeah, I guess so” I coughed a small laugh

“Oh, I know what would really cheer you up” she said all of a sudden, as if excited to surprise me with a present. Then, she led me forward and there, I saw her, my twin sister was sitting on a chair with a bouquet of white roses on her hand.

She was clothed in a lovely frilly white gown intricately designed in the motif of white roses. Her silken hair was kept in place by a rosy hair pin. A pair of silver earing on her ears, and another silver pendant hangs on her neck. With a loving smile on her lips, and shiny irises that gleam with affection, her presence alone radiates a charisma of ease. Though we were born of the same figure and image, her charm made her more alluring but in my eyes where she was anything but.

In just one glimpse, my mood was corrupted from a triumphant exhaustion into a hostile glare. Feeling my brows furrow in hate, I bared my fangs at her, making it clear that I do not appreciate her presence. But she did not seem to notice the first signs of my hostility as she voiced out the words “I love your performance”

Those were kind little words that I have heard before but when she does it, it is different. Forgetting my reputation, I snarled at her: “What are you doing here?”

My manager was quick to notice the sudden change in mood. She must have thought that a reunion between sisters would be something to look forward to but turns out, she cannot be anymore wrong. My sister, however, has long adapted to my cruel ways and just calmly spoke:

“I just wanted to hear your music” she said in reply, her hand reaching out to try and lend me her bouquet – a gift that I refused until my manager took them for me.

“Everyone does” I replied, arrogantly “What do you want from me?”

“It’s been too long since you last came home” she replied, her eyes drifting away, as if filled with nostalgia “It’s just not a home without the two of us”

“I am not coming.” my answer came fierce and fiery “You can keep that house for yourself for all I care.”

Then I forced the discussion to end there. I did not give her any chance to reply further. In the next second, I turned my and walked away in angry strides - my manager quickly followed my footsteps. Confused and quite embarrassed for what I have done, she tried to stop me and calm me down again but I was too angry to care.

“Hey, I know that I should not meddle with sibling conflicts but do you really have to go that far?” she stammered, trying to cope up with my pace but I ignored her. “She’s your sister, right?”

I kept my silence and continued my pace, not a single word was spoken. When we reached the car, I simply told her that I would appreciate it if she won’t dig in further to our strained relationships.

…

After my manager’s car has driven out of sight, I let out a loud sigh and went inside my apartment. There, I was greeted by the presence of the same apparition that tormented me on the stage. Its sinister grin filled me with contempt and scorn as it began to spoke the same words that I beg not to hear.

“Thief” it whispered with a grin. A single word that made me unable to move as the darkness came clawing at my thoughts, dragging me into the horrors of my past.

I was born gifted and my youth was engraved in accolades and trophies that proved my young and budding legacy. I was a prodigy in the art of music and my name was sought out by the modern masters of music who wish to have me as a student who would continue their legacy. The center of the stage, the spotlight, and the warm audience who wish to test the myth that comes with my name…it was the story of my youth.

Or so I wish it was.

It was never my fate to be one whom the crowd shall fawn upon. I am but a false fable borne from my sister’s failure.

My soul was devoted to music and I have a talent worth boasting. However, it was never one that can be compared to my sister who revels in the light and I, in turn, was overshadowed by her name that few can challenge. I am always a background character whose existence was to play second fiddle.

But it was fine. Though the abandonment was painful to bear, I admired her all the same. From the darkness of the backstage, I cheered for her with glee, joining the round of applause that she deserves the most. Fate has favored her from the very start and she was blessed with all the gifts that one could ever ask.

I loved my sister and I recognize that she deserves all the praise but as my insecurities clawed me more and more, I began to feel myself turning that admiration into jealousy and spite – a frightening emotion that I do not wish to recognize. But can I really be blamed for it when every time I step outside, it is always her whom the people seek and my entire purpose was to be mistaken for her? My entire existence was reduced into an unwarranted nuisance that no one wishes to meet. And the worst part is that I began to believe them.

The wound of my past felt like searing in pain as I remember those days; Those cloudy voices that spoke as I felt my own self-worth crumbling down. Unable to contain my own insecurities, I choose to fade into obscurity behind her back. From afar, I watched as how her fame and recognition grew till she finally left our place to fulfill her dreams. I was too little to notice for someone so revered.

We slowly grew apart, living our own ways, connected only by a few small talks on the phone. Nevertheless, I still listened to her music without fail. Those wild and untamed melodies of hers that I dear so much. I never missed a day where I could hear her masterpieces.

However, as the time passes, I also came to notice a growing sense of emptiness lying within the trample of the lively notes - a small misdemeanor that should not have been missed by someone so skilled. It was a strange tune, I said to myself. It was as if she was withholding an idea away from everyone that she does not trust. Must be just a small mistake by someone trying to experiment on another idea, I thought. But her following pieces only suffered the same problem. Small little notes that do not seem to match her usual style, they made my heart ache with unknown emotions.

Every night, I sat alone on the chair trying to make sense of these errors that should not be. This is not her. This is not her music at all. My worries accumulated the more I tried to listen. Until one night, I heard a knock on the door and was stunned in shock by the person that stands before me.

Wearing the dress of a foreign land, she now stands in front of me, a heavy luggage in hand and a smile that glows as lovely as the moon. Visibly confused and disoriented, I was taken aback when she suddenly leapt and hugged me tightly – her scent of lavender filled my nose.

“Surprise! I finally returned after all these years” she giggled before letting go. I was unable to respond quick enough and just kept looking until she reminded me of my role. “Hey. Are you not going to welcome me?”

“Oh, right” I stuttered and let her in along with the things that she brought with her.

I could see her dancing in little steps as she walked inside the living room, amassing herself with the sight that she missed so much throughout her travel around the world. “I’m finally home” she cried in joy “I’m finally home”

Then she collapsed on the sofa, hugging a pillow on her lap. She just looked at me and said “I have so much to tell you.”

…

For days on end, she shared with me all the adventures that she made through the globe. With a voice filled with glee and excitement, she told me of the beautiful roads and meadows that she threaded on as she let herself be lost away from the common concerns. How nostalgic her voice was when she turned her tale towards the people whom she met and accompanied her side by the table as they watched the fall of the leaves in their slow world. Her hands danced as she remember the times when the children all frolic on the road as she played them a music that swayed them off their feet.

Everything she spoke was lovely and full of life. But, just like the new songs that she composed, my ears pick up a strange tune in her way of speaking. One after another, her voice drifted off away from a thought that she just do not want to share. I did not question it and was just glad to meet her again.

Until one day, I heard a knock on the door and came to face a man who stared at me with extreme irritation

“Where on earth have you been?” he exploded “Do you know how much trouble you put me in?”

I turned myself turning pale but was too paralyzed to close the door.

“Leaving a note like that and disappearing without our notice? What on Earth were you thinking?” he said further “We are completely behind schedule and there are so many opportunities that we have lost.”

He then held me by the shoulder and said “Come, on. Pack your things. We need go at once.”

“S-sir” I stuttered as I took a step back, scared of his unreasonable demands. Suddenly, a sudden gust of wind blew behind me and he was thrown into the ground by a projectile that hit him straight on the head. Papers scattered about in a violent shower as he pulled himself together, groaning from the pain of whatever hit him.

Soon I realized that those were not just ordinary papers. Musical sheets scattered about on the floor.

“Could you please get your hands off her?” my sister called out behind me. Understandably, the guy was surprised to see identical women in front of him.

She walked closer and firmly nudged me to step back as she faced the visitor. “Did you not read my note? I said to leave me alone, didn‘t I?”

The guy stood up. “But everyone wanted you so much. There are so many people who are demanding to meet you. We can’t let them go unanswered especially when you are just so famous.”

“I said I had enough.” She pushed him away, firmly, and not wanting to spend any more time in the discussion.

The guy was silenced for a while before he just sighed and gave up. “I see…”

“I will be staying at the hotel for 2 weeks.” He said, dusting himself and picking up his hat. “Please come visit me once you are ready”

We watched him slowly walked away. Immediately, my sister closed the door behind her and looked me, smiling brilliantly, as if nothing happened. “I guess I can’t keep it a secret anymore, can I?

 I did not answer.

“Mind if you accompany me on a walk tonight?”

…

Our dress ruffled softly as we took our steps on the cliff side road. Dimly lighted by lamp posts and passing cars, we climbed up the lonely sidewalk without speaking a word except for my sister who keeps on humming her old song. Unable to break the ice, I just followed her lead.

“Hey,” she turned around and faced me. “What do you think of my new songs?”

That was a question that I did not expect. My eyes widened a bit and failed to give an answer.

“They were awful, aren’t they?” she nonchalantly ridiculed her own creations as she walked with a wide smile on her lips “Every note was made with love, every melodies can paint sceneries, and it leaves everyone breathless as the story within the song unfolds. But for a reason unknown, one can tell that it is lacking a heart.”

“Over and over, they praised me for those songs but just once - just a single one, can you please come and tell that I was horrible?” she grumbled with a tone that is starting to get annoyed. “It’s almost as if they are just doing it for the name of the musician rather than the quality of the art. What kind of admirer can I call that?”

“What do you think?” she turned to me. “It’s bad isn’t”

“N-not at all” I stuttered. She then gave me an irritated look, as if scolding me for my lie. Reflexively, my head dropped and I spoke honestly “I don’t think it’s bad. It’s just that I think there’s something that you keep on trying to hide. Some notes that were supposed to play crucial role were skipped and replaced with something that does not fit. It’s really painful to hear it.”

She then laughed heartily “Precisely what I wanted to hear”

All alone on the cliff side road, the sound of her laughter penetrated through the clash of waves beneath us.  At the end of the road was an old lighthouse that still stands despite all the neglect that it has suffered through the years. The two of us used to play on this part of the beach and when we grew up, we decided to make the place look better by planting seeds of flowering plants down the soil - flowers that still emits their sweet scent in this evening.

One step at a time, we climbed up the rusty staircase of the tower and leaned on the railings as we watched the seascape of the night. Waves crashing softly on the shore, a salty cold breeze that is blowing though our hair, and a moon above that shines bright and full.

With a hypnotic voice, she began to open up to me “I returned because I had enough of my life”

“Every day I am surrounded by people I do not know - expectations that must be met, audience that must be pleased. I could not care any less about that; I simply wanted to play my music. I thought I could just live my life that way until I realized that I cannot fool myself any longer. I want to be more honest with myself. I want to stray away from the path laid out for me. I want to take risks for once.” She sighed before adding: “Things that I fear to be.”

“I came here because I thought of running away but in the end, I am mortified by such a thought”

After saying that, she looked at me straight to the eye and said: “Without my music, would anyone be able recognize me? Who am I outside the stage?”

I was unable to reply after she said those words. Not once have I ever tried to ponder what is going on inside her mind. And for her to be so open about her insecurities is a thing I have never seen before.

She then smiled widely as she lifted her head and stared at the moon that showered her image with a cascade of brilliant light. “Do you think that life is beautiful? Are you content with what you have?”

It was a simple question that I answered just as easy “I guess it is. I am happy.”

From the corner of her eye, I came to witness the first drop of small tears that she tried to withhold.

“Indeed it is, isn’t it?” she spread out her arms and laughed as the tears flowed even more. The mood of the situation changed into a maddened folly that none can read. “Life is beautiful”

Then she jumped off the tower.

A nightmare

I woke up out of breathe and shaking with the terror that held me for what felt like an eternity The same scene that warped me into the person that I am now once again came to freshen the wounds that would never heal. Waking out of bed, I tried to bring light into my room by opening the curtains only to see a sky thick with looming gray clouds and wind that is frozen cold – fitting weather for a winter that would soon come.

Slowly, I took my steps down - down to the living room where papers of importance were taped messily on the wall. They are all the cursed writings that I made and despise. To most, they are the compositions that I made and shared to the world, but all I see here are my cursed stories that took shape from the betrayal of the person who was the world to me.

The anger I felt on that day is still scorching in my blood. The shock I felt as I desperately carried her bleeding body away from the shore and my terror as I cried for help, it was all still clear to me. The songs that brought me so much joy and meaning in life were suddenly corrupted by the foolish act of someone who cared only about herself.

As I held on a paper that was taped on the wall, my fist clenched and crumpled it on my hand as I felt my anger arising once more.

“What problem was so big that you cannot trust anyone else to give you help?” I snarled “Was this really how much you look down upon me? That you would rather die than let me hear about it and work it together?”

The news of her attempted suicide spread fast and brought noticeable impact on her admirers. Everyone showed their concern over her and the grim future that awaits the fallen star. They all speak words of disbelief and cries of mourning – acts of sympathies that hold no meaning in the eyes of someone holding so much grudge. It was a sad tragedy but from its ashes, I found my voice for the first time.

Needing an outlet to channel all the cries that were weighting me down, I turned my attention towards the piano keys that I have forgotten so long ago. The songs that were carved in my heart rung in a hymn that was twisted by the siren that yearns for the world she lost from her own naivety. The music that I’ve always admired from afar is now a music that I brought to the life bound in sorrow and regret. The name that I deemed sacred and holy was now the heretic words of a voiceless soul.

The men and women who were desperate to fill the hole in their heart were quick to fall for my thieving tricks. The familiar songs that they loved, I cursed to now herald a message that it should not. It was a blasphemy beyond any measure but who can blame them for wanting to forget the betrayal that left them wandering aimless and broken?

It was a sickening joke to think that I used her fall as a stepping stone, but no one raised a protest about it and instead eagerly replaced their once beloved with a new one. It was all just a passing trend to them. As soon as my grudge set in and made root, I abandoned her and never came back. Alone in her hospital bed, it must have hurt to hear your own music being played, twisted, and stolen by someone whom you trusted so much – a cruel jest that she pretended not to see. Her voice that I once yearned was forgotten by the dissonance that I carved in my heart.

And so I made my first steps forward while a deathly shadow lurked behind my every step, smiling wide as I fooled myself with the illusion I made.

…

Sitting patiently at the backstage, I counted all the seconds that passed as I await the signal for me to come forth. In front of me was a mirror that reflected the girl that should not be here. A frilly black gown laced in golden threads, a jeweled necklace, and a silver tiara on my head, I was an exquisite beauty worthy of the same stage from which countless of legendary musicians set foot. The terror of being in front of the crowd has long since been buried in the past but my fingers, which hungers for the touch of the piano keys, felt cold and shivering as it too felt the clock pass by the second.

“The show starts in fifteen minutes, you ready?” behind my back, my manager walked in and consulted me one last time. Her voice is something that I have been so accustomed to during events like this.

“I am.” I said in reply. “I’m quite bored, as a matter of fact.”

She smiled as she pulled another chair and sat behind me. Using a comb, she massaged my hair – a ritual that she started in order to calm my anxieties when I was still a beginner. This, of course, was followed by a small talk.

“By the way,” she started “I wanted to apologize about what happened on your last performance”

“Is this about my sister again? I have no qualms about it” I assured her “Just stay out of it.”

“Yeah, I was sorry about that. I have no idea that the two of you were in conflict” her words sting a bit “It’s just I love her music and I love yours too. I came to hope that you two would create music together.”

“Create music together, huh.” I repeated the words and let the thought sink in.

“She was really excited to see you, you know.” She added further. “When I invited her to surprise you, I could feel her smiling through the phone.”

  I maintained my silence

“Shame.” She brushed my hair one last time before fixing my tiara back in place. “I guess your music would remain aimless”

“What?” I turned to ask her to repeat her words. No one has ever said those words to me before and I demanded to know what she meant by it.

But she didn’t speak a word. Instead, I saw a melancholic smile on her lips then told me: “The concert starts in five minutes, better start walking. I’ll be watching you.” 

…

The thought lingered in my head as I sat in front of the thousands of my listeners. I have long since been accustomed to the pressure of the stage but for the first time in so long, a strange and peculiar fear began to crack within me. Shrugging the thought aside, I sat in front of the piano and let my fingers dance.

How long are you going to keep this act?

In strong and upbeat march of notes, the interlude came in fierce and thundering, assailing the crowd with notes that reverberates through the blood that runs on their veins. As alive as the music that I bestowed, their faces lit up as they succumb to the world that I made. A fragile realm built from glass.

Is this really what you want?

Those with petty ears were quick to fall prey to my allure but as I play the familiar keys, all I hear is the song that I loathe. As my fingers danced through the ivory and ebony keys, every tune came out wounded by the lies and deceit. The melody that was once gentle and kind banged on my head like a beast, caged and denied of her joy. Though the claws were sharp and the fangs were vicious, the cage refuses to break and all that can be heard are the anguished howls of the one lost in the dark.

When will you sing your own?

The audience, no longer listening, felt through their hearts the desperate screams for help that befalls upon their ears. It was a captivating nightmare set without rules. Held spellbound by the bloody cries, their chests ache as eternity was lost within the pianist’s wails. Their mouths were parted as their breath leaves them in pain. As if it was the first time they felt connected with the person they most admired.

When will you stop running?

A suffering prolonged by the flicker of hope, the cruel song continued to weep as my world of glass began to crack. The music that once offered me solace now echoed to my ears the questions that I despise. As the storm tore my sanity apart, my fingers only pounded on the keys, wilder, louder, and fiercer, making the audience feel the sharpness of the broken glass underneath their skin.

Are you happy?

In a final loud stroke of the key, my senses shattered on the final note and the façade that I wore so proudly were unmasked to reveal a girl who is now crying in front of the people whom she lied to for so long. Warm and bitter, I have found my heart at last – still beating strong against the cold. I clutched my chest as I felt my emotions come bursting through. These were the tears I shed for me and mine alone - each one felt too painful to bear.

Before I was lost within my crumbling self, a comforting embrace then came to envelop me from behind. Though my mind was tattered, there was no mistaking the warmth that wrapped itself on me. The one whom I despise the most is now supporting me on my darkest moment.

In the most soothing voice, she then whispered to my ears. “It’s ok. Let’s start over”

I closed my eyes as I felt her hand on mine, guiding its way back to the keys, and into a story retold a new. Like the flowers of spring bursting through the snows of passing winter, I breathe life to the music that have always been hidden and denied from the world. It was the most cherished dreams of a whimsical child with a heart still untainted and prayers that call for love.  Treasured memories that I locked for so long now shines forth its brilliance, illuminating the troubled world of the things that made who I am and who I should be.

And thus the stage shone with a masterpiece woven from the vows I made from my youth.

…

Hurriedly, I escaped the stage, completely oblivious to the fury of the audience whose joy cannot compare to mine. I was smiling from ear to ear, unable to hide the emotions that are bursting within me. For the first time in so long, my mind felt clear and my heart feels so light. It was moment of complete bliss and there is something I must do now.

When I met my manager, I leapt to her arms and she caught my weight with a grunt. Just like me, she too was brimming with so much joy.

“That was such a great performance!” she cried, loudly. “I, I just can’t believe you can play something like that.”

“I was surprised myself” I replied full with pride as I break away from her hug and then wipe the small tear drop that began to form again. “I could never do such a thing without my sister”

The smile on my manager immediately turned into a look of visible confusion.

Without warning, she asked “What sister?”

Those words came out of nowhere “My sister. She was there on the stage with me when I played the second song.”

“What?” she breathed “Darling, you were all alone on the stage all this time. You were playing something wild, then, you began crying. I thought of taking you away from the stage but then you played again. And that was the most beautiful song I have ever heard.”

If this is a joke, it is not a funny one. I don’t know how to react at those words and I just stood there, stunned. I could have remained frozen there if not for the arms that nudged me by the shoulder. It turned out to be a female officer.

“Excuse me, mam. But are you Ms. Leira?”

“Yes. That’s me” I replied

“We came here to inform you that your sister is currently on the hospital and is on a critical condition. Please come with us.”

…

The words banged on my skull as I frantically sprinted through the hallway of the hospital, desperate to find her. On the way to the Emergency room, I was blocked by a team of medics who held me by in place as I screamed my unreasonable demands to see her. It was a reaction that not even I could anticipate as something I could do, especially not for my sister. And yet, here I am, being held firmly in place to not disturb those who are still recovering, most especially her.

Attempted suicide and currently in a critical condition

Those were the words that they left me as I sat on the chair, pale and exhausted from everything that happened in such a short amount of time. A cup of hot tea was offered to me by my manager, whom, just like me, is showing signs of exhaustion. I have forgotten about how she came with me but she is still here, a true friend in my direst moment yet.

“You should get some rest” she told me as I took a sip from her tea “I booked you a room at the hotel just across the street. Or would you rather I drive you back to your home?”

Home

The words send shivers down my spine. Slow, I stood up and replied: “Yeah, I need a rest. I need to recover everything that I have lost.”

…

Threading through the path that refuses to be forgotten, the cold breeze and sound of waves breaking set a light to the memories that never stop calling my name. Once, I felt only anger and disgust over those thoughts but as they come flooding, I welcomed them back now with an open mind. All of them felt distant yet so clear and warm.

The house that I once pictured only in my nightmare now loomed above me with a radiating anticipation, eager to meet me again. The door accepted my old key and welcomed me without questions of where I have been. Inside were a timeless sight and nostalgia for the years that are now gone in the past. My fingers caressed the old walls to find any trace of dirt but everything was cleaned.

In the living room, what stands out the most was the piano that for so long still stands on the corner, patiently waiting for this day were someone could fulfill her purpose. On the music rack was a musical notation that I have never seen before. My curiosity got the better of me as I look at the notes that were handwritten without any error. Unable to draw away, I sat on the bench and began to play the message that my sister left for me.

It was piece that was made with simplicity in its mind. Plain and honest, the music that I was guided to create felt like the pages of a storybook was lost in the past but an experience never forgotten - a child who marveled at the tale of colors and romance as the pages unfold before her. Every note played was filled with a yearning for the days when life still held its meaning.

As I played through the interlude, the image borne from the song began to paint a picture of a maiden’s secret to keep. From days of joy and warmth, the song began to stagnate as she learned to steel her heart from the things she loved the most. Small painful melodies were soon crafted as she learned to lie from herself and the mortifying thought of losing what she cannot have. Long melancholic songs hidden underneath the vibrant tune, it was a reflection she wished to deny.

As if I was weaving the tapestry of her dreams, the solemn song whispered in my ears the struggles and doubts that the musician hid cleverly for so long. Happy, empty songs filled with troubled thoughts echoed through the walls as she struggled to make peace with herself, until slowly, the music transcended into a theme of a heart that no longer fears. It was a humorous event of a brave soul that unraveled before me.

It was a small piece of the composition that made me smile in elation. But before I could continue to the last part, my fingers just stop and were unable to find the heart to make it to the end. Instead, I just hang my head, lifeless but smiling – a lone figure inside a room that has fallen into dead silence.

“I was such a fool” I said, “To think that I could miss something so important.”

…

I have never felt so much calm throughout my life. My head, my heart, and my spirit, all feels renewed like a clean slate. Walking through the halls of the hospital, a small smile peek on my lips as I hum the song that I learned by my heart. Through the quiet and lonely pathway, the cold breeze of winter whispered to my ears. Patiently waiting for this day, my heart is filled with both worry and anticipation as I returned back to her room.

I finally caught glimpse of her image on the hospital garden. Sitting alone on a wheelchair, she stared out on the clear evening skies, smiling sleepily towards the moon that looms low and bright. Wrapped in a hospital gown, she was barren of any sign of any injury or despair, nothing to imply the tragedy that she just went through - all but a recovering patient, sleeping soundly on the cold.

When she caught my presence, her eyes slowly opened up and turned up to me. Surprised by my arrival, she immediately put on a smiling facade but it is clear from the glimmer of her eyes that life has long left her.

“Hey” I greeted her, trying to break the ice.

She tried to open her mouth but no voice came out at first. In the second struggle, a tear slide down to her cheeks and made me worry but I hid it when she replied “I thought I would never see you again.”

“I thought so too” I replied, turning my head to the same moon that she was staring at. “It’s been so long since we were able to talk like this”

Her head dropped. “I’m sorry for the mess”

Because it was not the first time, she is well aware of the trouble that she caused and the bigger ones that would follow. I replied “Don’t worry about it.”

We’ve been on the same situation long ago and at this stage, it is best to just let the patient be on their own thoughts. It is impossible to make things better, only worse. Thus, we share a small moment of silence until I spoke again: “Hey,” I said “I went to our house and saw your composition”

Her eyes widened for a second but she felt more resigned to the situation than make any attempts to hide her secrets.

“I guess it’s impossible to hide it now, isn’t it?” she replied, her words were soft and fading.

It was her turn then to surprise me as she slowly stood out of her chair. She turned to me, her eyes watery but a fire within her soul began to flare again. “I love you more than a sister”

She said the forbidden words as she turned away and gazed back at the moon.

“I love you longer than you ever know and you were the meaning behind the music that I make. At first I thought it was enough that you like me too but I began to seek out more from you. I became obsessed with your attention and inside my head were the fear of you finding someone else. It was scary and I cannot live with it. So I decided to leave.”

“I busied myself with whatever I could find on my time. I tried my best to forget but even my music condemned my cowardly ways. Ugly music that harbors nothing but dissonance, they were painful to hear. I was tortured by my own creation and haunted by my own imaginations. In the end, I began to fantasize and deluded myself that maybe there’s a chance. Maybe it’s not as bad as I thought. Maybe you could understand.”

“I was an idiot to think that” she turned back to me, her eyes were glimmering full of life. There was sadness and fright in her eyes but the lifeless shade dissolved. “When you said that you were happy with your life, I know it by then that you do not see me more than a family. Those words you left me were just so painful that I just cannot stop myself from doing something I know you would never forgive.”

“But it was fine.”

“It was fine if you hate me. It was fine if we never see each other again.  After all, I disgust you, right?”

She stretched out her arms wide, the radiance of the boom beam brightly behind her back, making her figure shine amidst the shinning ice and snow. Small tears flowed from her eyes, reborn with a new light. As the blessing of the moon cascaded behind her, the image she left was ephemeral and hallowed. On the final note, she said: “But even so, allow me say it all: I love you. I love far more than you ever know, I want to be someone more than your sister, and I want to be someone more than a family. So, please…”

Her tears flowed even stronger as the emotions she bottled for so long finally broke. As if her chest was about to burst, she put her hands to her chest and closed her eyes shut. “…love me too.”

Slowly, she descended to her legs, unable to look up to me for she heard my answer repeated in her head over and over and to hear it spoken in a real voice is incomparable.  However, I knelt in front of her frightened image, caressed her cheeks, and when she finally looked up, I gave her a kiss on the lips.

It was soft and sweet, her lips that were once cold with fright slowly melted into my touch. Surprised by my answer, she yelped a bit but she allowed herself be swayed and offered no resistance as we breathed the same warmth. The bitterness our hearts thawed in that moment and in turn was filled with nothing but the joy that overflowed from our eyes.

Illuminated by the pale light, the snow cascaded to its elegant descent as we parted lips, eyes watery with the new emotions within.

“I still do not understand what it is that I am feeling” I answered as I grasped her hand and intertwine our fingers together. I held her hand close to me “But I know that I cannot live without you again”

“So, please…” Borrowing her words, I felt another teardrop fall “…do not leave me again.”

Her response was a loud cry of joy as she jumped into my arms, hugging me tightly as the burst of joy overtake her. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you” she cried over and over. In turn, I returned her embrace and comforted her as she opened herself to me.

…

We settled for the night on her hospital room. Now with a new perception of our relationship, we sat together on the bed, hands entwined together, still unable to believe the reality that we live in. Once siblings torn by bitter memories, now a couple bound together by mutual affection. All of it is just too much of a change to handle in a single evening. Filled with too much joy, none of us felt the call of sleep.

The girl beside me however had a different idea in her head as she called me out, cheeks flushed a bit.

“Hey,” she called, her eyes glistening. “Have you done it with someone?”

“What?” I tilted my head in question but when I thought hit me, it hit me hard and the smile I had died from the bomb that she just dropped. Regaining my composure, I answered: “No, never had any.”

“I guess we are on the same situation” Her grasp on my hand tightened as I felt her anxiousness grow inside her but she was determined not to hold herself back any longer.

She lifted my arm and firmly placed it on her chest, her large bosom heave as I felt her heart beating strong with the accumulated stress and excitement that corrupted the mood of the room. With such enticing voice, she told me the words: “Can we do it tonight?”

Though she asks for permission, it is clear in her eyes that she would not accept a wrong answer. She leaned in closer to my face, still forcing my hand on her breast, and diligently lulling me to her. I averted my gaze as I swallowed my pride and just surrendered to her demands.

“Alright.” I said quietly, almost a whisper. “Let’s do it.”

I heard a faint thankyou before she aggressively reached out for my lips and giving me a kiss far deeper than the one we shared a few moments ago. Scorching hot with lust, she pounced on me without letting go of her hold on my lips, as if silencing my muffled resistance as she slowly dragged me into her spell. Grabbing my breasts and slipping her hand underneath my clothes as she push me on the bed, her aggressiveness showcased how long she has starved for love. Inexperienced and quite afraid, I can do nothing but shyly open my legs to her as she towered above me.

After unbuttoning the last of my clothing and unhooking my bra, I lay before her, completely defenseless in my bare skin. She paused for a while to stare at the girl who has surrendered to her and all I can do was avert my gaze as I saw her ravenous appetite mirrored on her eyes. A small gasp escaped my lips when she leaned over to kiss me on the neck, slowly making her way down to my chest in a trail of kisses.

Cupping my mound, she helped herself as she began to suckle on my reddened tips that were beginning to harden as my arousal climbs. I writhe and bit my lips when she began to nibble on it, the sight of my tormented self and the ecstatic moaning heightened her sense of pleasure as I soon found her fingers on my crotch. Under my skirt, she slipped her hand through the fabric and made her way to my moistened crevice. Reflexively, I was forced to close my legs after I felt the shame of letting her know how much I were aching for her touch but she is not having it and pulled my skirt off my legs in a one swift motion.

Completely naked now, she did not let me prepare my heart and leaned closer to my crotch. The sensation of her breath between my thighs was enough to drive me to the edge and she sensed my weakness. Instead of plunging deep, she began to tease me with her indecent kisses after kisses on my entrance, as if she was enjoying the sounds I make as I twist on the bed, desperate for her touch but still too embarrassed to say it in words.

Soon, I felt her tongue on my slit and caused me to grasp on the bedsheets as I felt her slither and wriggle within me. I felt her hunger in its fullest as she reached for the furthest extent of her tongue, blissfully indulging herself with the essence that I secreted as I revel in my own lust. Seemingly intoxicated, she lifted my legs and spread my folds apart with her fingers, forcibly opening the flower in front of her. In such a position, I felt a sense of utmost shame that she ignored as she just continued to lick every trail of my nectar.

Her tongue greedily caught the flow that leaked out from my core as I twisted and buck. Her fingers further escalated the flare bursting inside me as she stroked my weakest parts with a craving that lusts for the taste that she cannot get enough. A cry came out from my throat by the time she let her tongue run on the sensitive bud of my petals. In languid and playful circles, she caressed it with a primal hunger and made me moan louder.

Driven by her ministrations, I felt myself slowly widening my legs apart as the pressure inside me build up and changed the tune of my moans into cries that beg for more. She answered my demands by intensifying her acts and spread my petals wider and feasted heartily. So drunk with the lust of the moment I was that I closed my eyes and bit my fingers hard as the peak of my arousal over took my senses.

When I finally broke into an orgasm, my cry came out in its most lovely and shameful tune. Arching my back into its fullest extent, my legs inevitably clamped on her head and she felt the burst of my surging flow right on her face. My sense of self collapsed into a moment of pure white and when I returned back into reality, I became a complete mess. Exhausted beyond measure, limbs trembling in every inch, and heavy with perspiration, I took my breath in loud gasps.

When she rose up from her position and stared at my ruined image, I came to see that she was in an even worst state as I am for I inevitably made a mess of her face. She leaned closer to me and kissed me on the lips, making me taste the flavor that she love so much. A small giggle came out from me but she only answered it with a troubled expression.

 “I’m sorry” she said, “I still haven’t had enough.”

Immediately after saying that, she undressed herself and lifted my left leg high above before positioning her crotch against mine. I was already swollen from my previous experience but after making contact with hers, I felt the heat that has accumulated between her legs. Just like me, she too was desperate to be touched and she refuse to let herself be unsatisfied, even if it meant abusing me more than my stamina would allow.

She then grinded herself against me, rough and filled with a carnal drive. Our nectar intermingled into a single flow that further enhanced the sensation of our privates pressing together. As she did, she took hold of my breast and squeezed them hard. In my half closed vision, I was able to picture her smiling through the mess of sweat and indecency of the night, truly absorbed in enjoying herself by using me.

She strengthened her grip on my legs as she further intensified her ministrations. Limbs entwined so tightly, we were locked in place in our frenzied dance filled with the sonorous music of our pleasurable cries. The bed creaked loud and along with it, our honeypot quietly spilled and flowed on our legs down to the sheets. Just like what happened on my first release, I felt a strong surge well up inside me and out of need to find something to hold on, I reached for her hand and she responded by holding mine only to later place it on her bosom.

She must have thought that it was funny to see my reaction change and indeed it was as I answered her by cupping her firm mounds and fondling them on my hands as she bucked her hips and continued to drive us to the peak of ecstasy. Finally feeling like our senses were about to burst, her head hang up and closed her eyes as we both surrendered ourselves to pleasure with nothing else to cloud our thoughts.

Grinding herself to me even more vigorous now, she wordlessly signaled me that she is nearing her breaking point and likewise, I allowed her to know that I too was tipping on the edge once more. Taking hold of whatever our hands could reach, we held it right on the final second from which all of our senses broke.  Bending our backs to the furthest we could, we desperately writhe on the bed as we failed to contain the screams of pleasure that came bursting out of our lips. Nothing else in our senses registered but the love we shared.

After the quaking surge of orgasm finally subsided, she collapsed on the bed right beside me. The aftershocks that came after the massive orgasm can still be seen in our quivering skin. The legs that are hurting from being stretched, a thick coat of sweat, and the loud panting on the room, all of it showcased how badly we went too far, but it was all worth it. Being the one who took the initiative from beginning to end, she was clearly far more exhausted than I am. Eyes dropping and about to fall, we were both on the final lines of our stamina. Thus, at least at this moment, I stroked her hair and leaned closer to kiss her on the lips again.

In the fateful night from which our lives can no longer return to the way it was, we shared a small and innocent kiss to bade each other a night of sweet dreams.

Epilogue

As the final snow of winter falls to the ground, the first rays of spring broke through the thick clouds, making the icy trees gleam with the arrival of the sun. Flowers that broke through the white blanket bloom rich in color, eager to greet the onset of day like faeries that were woken up from their long slumber. Small birds came along with them, chirping in glee as they returned back to their homes, singing their new found songs as they took to the skies.

Amongst the houses where the first rays of the sun fell, was a house that sings the songs of undying hope. Simple melodies borne from the keys of an aging piano, it was a song that they know by heart since their earliest memories - a song that carries a different meaning now. The song that she once admired from afar is now the same song she plays in front of the person she loves the most and upon reaching the final note, no sound of applause was heard. Instead, her sole audience moved closer and kissed her on the lips.

“You have done well” she praised, as she parted the small kiss.

“The song hasn’t ended yet” Leira replied as she returned back to her keys. True to her words, the melodies resumed back to where it previously stopped. With the wounds of the past now all but a scar, she began to sing the world that they once thought will never be -a world where they are happy as one.

And thus spring came for everyone.