People flooded the large, bland music room of Tewpert H. Middle School. Flashes of gold, silver, black, and copper made young me dizzier that she thought possible. The chest-band that held back my…deformity felt tight and sweaty.
“Children! Take your seats! Even you, Lilian Amsterbop!” A harsh, shrill voice ordered through the room’s feeble audio system. I could see him looking down at me with his eagle eyes, calling me out like I knew he loved to. The other small, young kids hurriedly followed the formidable band teacher’s orders. “What you see here today is brought to you by Adio Kids Music Foundation. They will be helping you find an instrument you can play. Now, you may not end up with what instrument you want. There has to be a balance in the band. There cannot be 17 flutes and 3 trumpets. You will be going around and sampling each instrument using their mouthpieces and reeds. I understand many of you are not beginners; in that case, you can stay with your instrument. Feel free, though, to try out less common instruments. I urge you all to try for the French horn and the Tuba, less commonly played instruments. Are we ready, Mr. Goodon?”
“I believe so.” I looked around the room. Different instruments were stationed in various spots.
I can’t believe I have to find a stupid instrument just because my mother told me, I thought to myself.
“Let the rampage begin.” The band director announced. At once, every child got up, clutching their forms. Except for me. Once the others scrammed, I looked around the room to find the French horn, whatever that was. Lucky for me, there was a sign plastered above each station with the instrument’s name.
“Lily?” A voice asked from behind. Surprised, I spun around, to find the evil teacher behind me.
“Yes, Mr. Kuchos?” She sighed.
“Why don’t you try…” He began, before scanning the room. “How about the euphonium?”
“Eu-what?”
“Euphonium.” He impatiently repeated. I shrugged.
“It’s as good as any here.” With that, I pushed past him, hearing him muttering to the man next to him:
“She’s always been a sour apple. I was terrified when I saw she was in my class. She really just stays in the corner and never follows orders, but she doesn’t interrupt or anything. I guess I’m lucky. I hear that she already has two referrals from her last three classes!”
I was used to this torment. I was always the ‘bad girl’. Never follows orders and is openly defiant of everything and anything. I didn’t care any longer.
I made my way to the huge piece of metal knows as the euphonium. There was one person there, and he could barely utter a note. He sighed.
“Try woodwind instruments. Your lips aren’t thick enough.” The adult there said, a skinny, shallow lady, while scribbling down a number 1 and a few comments. “You, girl.” She called, as if there were hundreds of kids instead of one in front of her. For once, I obeyed, sitting in the uncomfortable metal chair.
Don’t push my buttons, I thought as the lady snatched my paper.
“Ok, here.” The director said, placing the metal junk on my lap. “Make a sound like ‘emmm’ and blow into this.” She pointed to the mouthpiece.
“Fine.” I grumbled. I made the ‘em’ noise and blew. Little, harsh sound came out. The lady snorted.
Let me play. A voice rang in my head, weak but persistent.
Let me play. It came again. Slowly, very slowly, I began to see what it meant-it was like a void I would have to walk into in order to obey. It was hazy, and I could barely see it. When it was clear, though, I eagerly dove in, my curiosity taking over. My brain turned off. I couldn’t feel my pulse. My body followed, until I felt like a limp, lifeless noodle. That was when I felt the burning sensation arise in my fingertips. Unwillingly, one by one, they pressed down. My lips blew. I saw notes dancing before my eyes like sparkles.
Like a light, they turned off. I was yanked back into the world.
“Have you played before?!” They lady asked, shaking me. I took a single hand from the instrument to plow her in the face.
“Don’t touch me.” I spat.
“Answer my question!” She barked, ignoring the trail of blood beginning to trickle down the corner of her mouth.
“No.”
“Do it!”
“Or what? You’ll snitch? Go ahead.”
“Mr- Mr. Kuchos! Mr. Goodon!” She shrieked. “Come here please!”
They rushed over.
“What did she do?!” Kuchos demanded.
“She- she went into a trance thing! Out of the blue, she began to play Mozart’s Symphony Number 40! She wouldn’t stop, so I shook her. She slugged me across the face. I’m fine- but she says she’s just a beginner!”
“She is.” Kuchos replied, disgusted and fascinated at the same time. “Play again, I beg.”
Let me play. The voice came again. The void, clear this time, appeared again.
“No.” I snapped to it. I was barely aware of the voiced staring.
Let me play. Like a black hole, this time, I was sucked in. Just like that. My brain snapped off, followed quickly by the rest of my body. It was rebelling from my command! I struggled to snap out of it, but my fingers pressed buttons. My mouth blew. It was entrancing- I knew it was powerful music, even if I could not hear it. The music notes came on again. They were just as scrambled. They kept on coming, faster and faster. I could feel my fingers following. I could not help the thirst for the notes. I felt like one of those vampire things, taking in the energy and the…power, I guess, like blood.
Rise. You are too inexperienced. You cannot take much more. The voice, much louder now commanding. I did not know what to do.
I felt myself being wrenched from the paradise into the world again.
“L-L-Lily?” Mr. Goodon asked, more like a disbelieving statement.
“Yes?” I remarked, tapping my foot.
“You’re not a beginner?”
“No. We went over this.”
“She lies!” Someone else called. I realized the adults crowded around me.
“Everyone just… GO AWAY!” I demanded. They backed off without question. Thank goodness, the rumors of my destructiveness had spread already, on only the second week of school. “It’s just a stupid piece of junk that I happen to be able to use! What of it?”
“Lily, you just preformed a piece most professionals can’t play. On your first day.” An anonymous voice cried.
“I couldn’t help it! The god cursed thing took over my head!”
“What?”
“It- it took over! I didn’t have any control over it! It just kept feeding me energy or something! It was the euphonium playing me! It used me like a glove!” I accused. That raised a murmur of excited confusion.
I have never been happier for the bell to ring in my life.
“Lily? Stay after class to speak with me, please. We have some things to discuss. In my office. Mr. Slagtie, will you take over?” He asked his intern, Jonathan Slagtie. The younger man nodded, stalking like a hungry tiger to the podium.
“I’ll be late for-”
“I’ll write you a pass. Excuse my behavior Lily, but I doubt you care anyways.” He barked, pulling me to his office.
It smelled of pine incense. The walls were littered with images of his two children. The desk was neat and organized, except for the few tissues scattered over it.
“I have a cold.” He replied when he saw me look. “Please, sit.” He mentioned to a chair.
I sat, scribbling another tally on my hand. Hm… the eight referrals this week. And it’s only Wednesday.
“What do you need me for, Mr. Kuchos?” I moaned.
“I need to discuss several things with you. First, I believe I am marking you down for euphonium?”
“I guess.”
“Lily, I need you to talk openly with me. What happened when you played the euphonium?” His voice sounded to soft and innocence, as if coaxing me in the kindest way possible to explain.
“It’s none of your business.” I growled.
“Ah, yes. That is another thing I need to talk to you about. Your behavior is unacceptable. I could sue you for assault on behalf of Mrs.Renbrant, the lady you were practicing with.”
“Yes, you could.”
“But I do not think I will. You were acting out of self-defense. I hope.” He stated the last two words with emphasis.
“Yes I was.”
“I must trust you are telling the truth. I have heard about your parents, and I am deeply sorry.”
“What, about those bastards’ divorce? They were not my parents. They merely brought me to this hell of an earth. Parents would love me, not insist that I came to them by mistake and how deeply remorseful that are for bringing me to this hellhole. Remorseful for their own sake.”
“I will not accept that language in my classroom!”
“We’re in your office.” I mumbled. He showed no acknowledgment of my comment, if he heard.
“Therefore, I must give you a referral for your rude behavior. I am sorry, but that is the weakest way of punishment. But lily? Have you ever heard of the commanding 5?”
“What are they, 5 slave drivers?”
“No. It is 5 instruments – Flute, Clarinet and oboe, they count as one; tuba, trumpet, and flute.”
“That is four.”
“And Euphonium.” He finished. My ears perked. “They demand great respect. There is a prophecy about them.”
“Not more of the stupid prophecy junk!” I moaned.
“It says that five children will rise from the ashes to save our country using the instrument.”
“Now, obviously, this is not true, since a human cannot raise from ashes.”
“Quiet.” He demanded. “The prophecy also speaks of these children of having two god-given abilities. One is shared by all - go within their instrument and become one with it. When that happens, infinite possibilities come. It is entirely the instrument’s choice. I am not saying you are part of this prophecy, but I think you may have a god-given gift.”
Now, I am not good, but I am deeply religious. That fact that god could have chosen me was extraordinary.
“What is the other gift?” I asked.
“A various ability, like reading minds. Nothing real.” I felt at my back, where my 'deformity' was held back. Could that be a power? “But the prophecy says that, if allowed by the commanding five, the instrument will let the child’s spirit into it. When that happens, magic will occur. Magic, yes, as in creating fire and healing people. Now, the commanding 5 already have players… but you may want to consider asking them about an apprenticeship. You may go.” He handed me a yellow slip of paper, a pass. I pushed it into my pocket.
“What do they do?” I asked suddenly, surprising even myself by my rashness.
“The commanding five? They are war generals and they protect the public. Go.” He said, brushing past me into the mess of his fifth period. I followed quickly, making a bee-line for the door. I rearranged my backpack, before sprinting off to the science room.
______________________________________________________________________________
“Look who decided to show.” Mr.Jenurlat, my science teacher, barked as I entered the room.
“Shut it. I have a pass.” I growled, fishing the yellow paper from my pocket to give to him. He ignored my first sentence.
“Sit.” He commanded. I obeyed, plopping next to another girl. She had brown hair that was messy and unorganized, with mud brown eyes much like my own. I gave her a death glare out of the corner of my eyes, and she shied to the far corner of the table. She whispered something to another girl, and they both giggled.
“As I was saying, mitosis and meiosis are very different things. Mitosis is completely revolved around asexual reproduction, while meiosis is a special type of cell division required for sexual reproduction. It creates the sex cells, which has half the number of chromosomes. Tell me, if a baboon has 28 chromosomes in a normal cell, how many does it have in a sex cell?” He lectured. Giggled punctured every word of his speech, but hands shot up to answer his question. “Yes, Rudy.”
“14.” She answered. I couldn’t see her face.
“Yes, very good!” He yelled. From there, I zoned out. Abilities, Mr. Kuchos had said. I wonder if they could actually be of some use, my-
“Lily! I asked you a question!” Mr. Jenurlat boomed.
“Can you repeat the question, please?” I asked innocently.
“What is the number of chromosomes in a human sex cell?”
“23.”
“Correct.” He hissed. “Now, about the tes-” The bell cut through his words. Had it realy been that long? “t.” He berked. “On Wednesday. Make sure you study.” Everyone rushed from the room, but I was first. The courtyard was bustling with children. Mostly seventh graders like myself, though.
“Hi, I’m new.” Someone said from behind. It was a girl with black hair and blue eyes. I looked down slightly at her, staring into her eyes before she began to cower.
“Please, she doesn’t understand.” A voice I knew begged. I turned to see Rudy. “She’s-”
“New. Just stay away from me and you’ll live.” I barked before pacing away to my next class. It wasn’t that far away. I walked into a cool, white room, glancing around like a hungry tiger. Language arts was the only topic that interested me.
But today, Mrs.Gerbud was out. We had a sub- the meanest, evilest sub there is – Mr.Treng. Seems we were supposed to do a paper on why we love substitute teachers. I made a paper on my we hate substitute teachers.
“Papers! OUT! They go to the pile!” He commanded as the shrewd bell rung. I plopped it on the growing heap, before making a bee-line for the door. The fresh air was a relief from his stinky odor.
You should at least try. A voice inside of me boomed. It sounded like the euphonium’s, but then again, it wasn’t.
“Try what?” I asked it. Some people turned to stare.
You should try.
“What?”
It isn’t a deformity. You should try. The voice vanished. I knew what I must do. I took off from the corridor. I needed to get my bike. I rushed past people, rousing shouts and curses from every direction. After what seemed like forever, I got to the bike rack. My old, dilapidated black bike was surrounded by shiny, bright ones. Ignoring the fact, I wrestled it from the lock. I lost the key long ago.
I pedaled as fast as I could away from the school. I just kept on going, stopping only at a lake. I stared down at my reflection. It showed a girl with straight, black hair and mud brown eyes. Rather beautiful. But this girl was not me. I growled, jumping back onto my bike and speeding away. I’m ugly! No one likes me. It’s just a rule not to like Lily the Beast.
I reached my destination- the cliff. I stared down. There was the mattress. A lot of people liked to jump off this cliff, and once someone broke his collarbone. Soon after, someone had brought a mattress so no one else was injured. If I failed, I would not get hurt… too badly, at least.
Making sure no one was near, I pulled out my pocketknife. I cut my shirt in two places, both in long lines. The ran parallel to each other. I checked another times to make sure no one was remotely close. No one. With a deep breath, I cut my strap.
My black wings sprang out behind me. I pushed both of them into the holes. They felt like arms to me. I flexed them; it had been years since I let them out of that bands. My chest felt free, bobbing around when I moved. I glanced back. My wings were coated in feathers. The tips reached the back of my knees on the bottom, and my shoulders at the top. They connected to me in the exact center of my back.
“This is it.” I said to myself, before hesitantly falling off the cliff.
Thoughts? Questions? Concerns? Please review!
Haha