A Pending Performance

The prelude was of nothing catchy. The beats used were slow and the keys involved were relatively same throughout the first few weeks; she was an ordinary girl, with a pair of spectacles and long, brown hair. There wasn't any thought that included her in the picture. Her identity was clear, being Ms. T.

The music played on and things started to show some signs of life. A few question marks were switched on. A small quarter inside was being occupied and a signboard, written "Ms. T" could be found there; the silence was broken, with attempts for conversation made.

It was then when one of the pieces involved over-charged. The beats were pushed too high in too short notice. The intended became so wrong. Two-ways turned into one and the conversation was made into interrogation; unanticipated intrusion of emotions and sensitivities flushed the whole song down the drain. The gate to her went shut, with a lock put on as well.

Without the key and without replacement, the whole play ceased. Everything was boxed and shunted aside. Huge pieces of cloth were laid on top every piece of instruments; silence came in and occupied every corner of the room. Nothing could really be done, so I turned my back and decided to walk away.

Yet, something was left behind. Every step taken became heavier and more gut-wrenching in time. Finally, I stopped but all the way back was a picture of Ms. T with another guy. It's not explainable but jealousy slapped me hard; hurtful and insulting words just rammed out, followed by regrets. It further complicated things, on top of the impression that her whole attention was focused on him.

Things were hopeless. Even so, the topics just couldn't help to be circling around her. The music was rewritten, prepared for a future of slim possibilities. There weren't any sweets given around that time, only some pills that required to be kept in mouth until it all melts away......

Now, I'm still on medication; my beatings aren't really normal and my emotions aren't really recognizable. The music still wasn't played properly to its designated audience. There was no idea on when she will be free to hear it out but there was no intention of dumping anything as well. 

May the time be the witness, as well as the judge......