The Throw-Aways

Wednesday night at about eleven after my dad came home, I snuck out of the house. Yesterday had been easy with the tests, but avoiding my friends for the second day in a row was a little more difficult. All my finals had gone well and tomorrow, I would have only two more periods to go. Friday was an off day. Why they had a “teacher work day” at the end of the school year, I didn’t know, but at least I could sleep in right before the weekend.

Pulling the black hood over my head, I stepped out into the abyss of night.

I had a small drawstring bag slipped on my back carrying all the supplies I would need for tonight. I never took my car to my destination-it created too much noise and suspicion. Instead, I always walked.

As soon as I was a safe distance outside of the house, I started at a light jog towards an old building just off the side of an old road. The highway stretched east to west and was built before Forsaken Road. Forsaken Road was the original, scenic road to see the beauties of the Rocky Mountains, but ever since the Highway Sixty Four broke through our town like a void between the two sides, I Forsaken road was just a pain. It added another thirty minutes or so to the drive.

Besides, there was a ghost that haunted the old church by the side of the road.

They called her the Singing Specter because she every other night, she sang and played the piano that sat in the main cathedral of the old church with a caved in roof. Her keys were said to be heavenly. She wasn’t a haunting ghost, but one that simply stayed where she was, bound to the site. It was said that her touch was like magic that he fingers didn’t even touch the chipped keys, but the piano sprung to life. Rumor was that her voice could bring tears to those with stony hearts, and weave caring threads into the heartless. Some guessed that she was an old singer that had died a hundred years ago, but had expanded her musical selection through the years. Others thought she was an undiscovered singing prodigy that just wanted to share her music with someone before she was at her final rest.

I liked to believe that last rumor.

She never sang an old melody, but rather, sung songs you might hear on the radio-if it ever worked. The ghost’s voice spun through the lyrics of anything from Secrets by One Republic to Feels like Forever by Of Mice and Men.

I guess that’s what I liked about her. She never forgot the Throw-Aways like me and my friends.

No one liked to visit the old church. When they had first heard a voice singing and the piano playing, some older men went to investigate, but had never found anyone. Day and day, they checked back, but day and day, they never found anyone.

Kylar thought that this ghost had to be where I got my “incredible” piano talent. Kye always had these brilliant ideas that the spirit was my ancestor or something.

I never told anyone, but I always went out there at about midnight, when the Singing Specter started her tunes. This night, I went out a little early. Once my feet hit the cracked pavement, I snuck across the old road to tall weeds that disguised my dark figure.

When I got to the large church, I crawled in through a hole in the wall. There were many secret entrances and exits, not just the front door. It was quite wonderful, actually. The inside of the church had many old and broken pews that one could sit in. Some squeaked, others didn’t, but each had that ancient feel to it.

The walls were collapsed in places, letting a cool draft sweep through the rows of benches. A stained glass window still stood at the west side of the church, looking out over the Highway, if you crawled up to it.

But the crowning point of the church wasn’t the glass window, but the old piano.

It was a beautiful, old Steinway. Why wouldn’t someone loot this gem? Well, the outside shell was chipped and cracked so you could barely read the name, some of the hammers were damaged, the leg was propped up with a wood scrap, the bench was wobbly, and some of the keys were out of tune.

A while ago, some men who wanted to visit the church, but not when the Specter was about, went during a Saturday morning and brought some supplies. The tiny town of Gold Ridge didn’t have that much excitement, so when the Specter started singing, it was like our mascot, or something we could entertain ourselves with.

Anyways, the men thought they could do something “nice” for the spirit so it would be “appeased” and stay in the church. It was like old Vikings sacrificing goats or whatever to gods so they didn’t smite the village.

These old men took wood and fixed up parts of the bench so it wasn’t as wobbly. They fixed some of the keys so it was a little less out of tune. The group repaired it, but never touched the outside keys. The men were too unwilling. All of them always glanced over their backs, as if someone was watching them.

Of course, they were being watched. The Singing Specter always perched on her little wood beam, cleverly hiding on up in the lofts. She watched, but was never seen.

How do I know?

Oh, well that’s because I’m the Singing Specter!

I am the ghost!

It was me who went every other night or so to play on the keys. It was me who sang her heart out with forlorn tunes and pounding beats. It was me who was too afraid to play in front of others, so she hid behind a fake identity that everyone could only guess at.

So if everyone loved the ghost of Forsaken Road, why didn’t I tell them it was me?

Well, for multiple reasons. First, I didn’t want to be shamed as a fraud. Second, I enjoyed the little mystery behind it. Lastly, I didn’t want people to expect more out of me than I could give. If they thought that I was some spectacular pianist and they wanted me to play more and more, I would just be more and more shaken!

I could only play for the crowd of one: and that was me.

After pondering these thoughts, I started towards the piano. Some rain had come through a few nights ago and some of the piano hammers needed to be replaced. I loved storms because when they howled loudly, I could sing and scream however I wanted to and no one could hear if I messed up. As proudly as I was to say I had gotten to the point where I rarely missed a beat or note, it did happen on occasion.

The old wood greeted me familiarly. Sure, it was just a piano, but I had named it and everything! We had become like one. Whenever my fingers touched the cracked, worn, and faded keys, I felt like it wasn’t an instrument I played, but a story I was telling.

Blest, Blest was its name.

“Hello, Blest. It looks like you need a fix up.” I patted the sides of the piano reassuringly. Okay, before anyone puts me in a mental hospital, I DO talk to my instruments.

I mean, who doesn’t want a little TLC?

If pianos could talk, I’m sure Blest would call me an idiot and then tell me to replace the piano hammers. I opened up the lid quietly and started to work on the innards of the beautiful keyboard. I had known this piano for a few years now. Over long summers and cold winters, I had looked up how to fix a piano and gotten pretty good at it.

“You know, Blest, we’re both the same. About thirty years ago, someone just decided to leave you after that landslide came through, and about two years ago, I was left in the dust after my own landslide came through.” I chuckled to the instrument. Sometimes, you didn’t need an answer; you just need to fill in space with your own words.

“Okay, so maybe you suffered more physically harm, but we’re both Throw-Aways, right? You were literally left to disintegrate until I found you and fixed you up, and I was left alone after my mom died when you waited for me to play the keys. Ah, what a moment.” I thought back fondly to the moment two weeks after my mom’s death. I ran out of the house, trying to escape the memories as my old piano back home was sold to pay for bills. I ran to the church, sitting in one of the pews.

There, Blest stood. I walked up and started to play a few notes. It was the beginning of Welcome to the Black Parade. From that moment, I was hooked and never letting go. I named the Steinway piano and helped fixed her up.

Soon after, I had gotten my new identity and the old men unknowingly helped repair the piano. My career as a ghost had started!

“Okay, all better!” I happily whispered in the old room. Part of the roof was open to reveal the night sky. I had climbed up to that large hole multiple times. There was a ledge that I could slide down for a quick escape. There had been a time or two I had to use it. Of course, there were multiple other exits only I knew about.

After I set down my drawstring bag with the tools safely packed in it, I pulled the piano stool to the comfortable position. I yanked the hood over my head as a gust of wind charged through an open hole in the side of the wall. The piano faced the entrance to the church. I had moved it that way so no one could sneak up on me. It faced all the holes and was backed up to a secret passage in the back wall that I had cleared out. Just moving some old bricks that had fallen, a small hole was cleared out so I could carefully climb up stairs and walk across beams to reach my emergency exit.

Overall, it was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful, haunting, and ancient building with a nice piano. Sure, it was a little out of tune, but weren’t we all?

So as I sat down, I started to sing. I let the beautiful opening of Deathbeds echo around the walls. My fingers drifted over the keys, letting the rivers of memories, the pain, the anguish of two days ago when Jay came and told all my friends what had happened all whoosh out of me.

It was like I was letting the pain go, and bringing the joy of singing in. The piano and I were molded together in one musical heartbeat.

Ever since Monday, I hadn’t talked to my friends that much. They gave me space to think things over, and I focused on acing each of my finals.

I was finished playing my “warm up” piece and started letting go.

Now, I let my thoughts wander. No, they didn’t wander, they flew!

I’m up on stage, the crowds of Warped Tour bouncing around. We’re on the main stage and had just finished up the song Public Service Announcement. It nearly brought me to tears, but I was strong and brought my heart and soul into the keys. It was like the keyboard and I were one person.

“Okay, before we perform our last song on the MAIN STAGE,” Austin cheered to the crowd, grabbing the microphone. The thousand or more people cheered back and jumped. Alan and Aaron strummed a chord as Tino rolled on the snare. I fist pumped the air, still energized after that last song.

“I first want to say thanks to all you wonderful fans out there! We can’t do it without you! Now I’d also like you all to give it up to our newest member, RAVEN!” The crowd leaped into a frenzy of claps and whistles as I held up my hand. It looked like a thousand birds in a frenzy for a single morsel of food.

“We better know her as R-Girl, but nonetheless, she’s a badass with the keys and it’s been wonderful getting to know her and welcome her to the Of Mice and Men family!” Austin concluded. With the final roar of the crowd, their song, Would You Still Be There started up.

This was one of my favorite songs, and the band knew it so they happily agreed to my suggestion of playing it last on the set. I pounded the keys on my board. I was in my element out in front of the crowd. The worry and fear melted away from my bones and was left with a pure feeling. It was like the chains of worry had snapped in two and left me flying freely.

When it ended, we all walked off stage, Austin high fiving me for completing my first tour. What a rush!

When I opened my eyes, finish off the last note, I let out a relaxed breath. That entire time that I had played the “final song on the set”, I had been singing my heart out and letting my thoughts wander. I knew the song note for note, word for word. It gave me a head rush, finishing up the piece, but I loved the excitement it left me.

So, to top off the second piece of the night, I started with another classic to me. I was done playing sad pieces to let out any sorrow I had felt. I wanted a song to make me rage and want to punch something in the face.

Preferably, Jay.

So I started with a classic Crown the Empire piece: The Fallout. It could always make me smile, even if I couldn’t scream as well as the singer. I could scream, but just not as well as the actual artists. That was okay! It told me I had something to work on.

So I started playing, letting the notes trickle through the air and escape to the town where I lived. Who cared who was listening? I was in my happy place, my little heaven on earth. I might not be able to try out for my favorite band, but that didn’t stop me from playing their songs here in the church!

“We have only one life to live, and then we’re cast into the night…” I sang.

The Singing Specter had struck again.

Notes

Oooohhhhh we finally get to see who the Singing Specter is! She'll get into the story more and more, so don't worry!

So how do you guys like Blest the Piano? I know I added it onto the character list, but I felt that it's been in Raven's life enough that it deserved its own little description! :D

Keep reading and stay beautiful!