The Sound of Sight

I sat within the classroom. The rest of the class left for the day. The calm breeze flew through the window, whisking my brown hair over my eyes. The music from the guitar played quietly through the speakers of the phone lying on my desk.

I held onto my guitar in solace. The pick rested in my hand. Whenever I felt depressed, sad, even happy, I would cover my ears and escape to the world of music. It saved me. I had a difficult life, more than others, actually; more than most. My parents passed away. A car collision took them from me. I was over it at this point; well not really, no one really overcomes that sort of trauma, but I never showed it.

Now it was only me, my music, and my guitar. I let the wonders of music wash away my worries.

The sun wandered low over the trees. With the courtyard empty I felt it was time to leave. Gathering my books and my music I retreated towards the halls. The cement floors echoed against the steps in my stride. It was quiet. A kind of quiet that only one knows when they’re alone. The stairwell rang with a slightly altered sound. One of greater significance. One that spoke out against the silence. It was unique to that area of the school. Reaching the main floor, the same silence as above descended upon me once again. More silent than as above. A sound that could only be heard if one searched for it.

Metal screeched as I opened my locker to store my books for the night. The sound of tacks sputtered against the wood floor. I knew what they sounded like at this point, I didn’t even need to look down to know they were there.

The breeze which flew through the trees brought another sound to the world around me. The sound of freedom, and yet at the same time, the sound of longing for freedom. The leaves that flew freely made no sound, yet those that stayed attached fought for release. The streets were quiet, but the stone beneath my feet spoke the rest of the walk home. Moments before I walked through the front door I stopped. Turning around I thought I could hear another sound. One that was different from what surrounded me. Seeing nothing amiss I shrugged and entered my home. The door clicked quietly behind me.

He saw her from the halls. He had watched her during class. He saw her sitting alone. He knew she had been teased for being different. He saw her fight through it, take the pain and not say anything. But, for all the strength she showed, something was up with her, yet he didn’t know what it was. She hardly spoke; yet whenever she had music with her, she seemed alive in a new way.

The boy stood on the stone sidewalk. His blue eyes spotted her from the window of the convenience store. She had been away from school for a long time. Missing about three months from what his friends explained. Now the autumn winds were blowing, and the air grew cooler.

Returning the magazine to the shelf, the boy left the store and followed the girl from a distance. Her long brown hair blowing calmly in the winds. She held her guitar close to her chest. As if seeking comfort from it. It was strange how distant she seemed from everyone. He never marshaled the courage to talk to her, her issues appeared like none of his business; yet today there was something about her. The way she held onto the instrument, as if it was a new part of her.

Seeing that she made it to her home safely, the boy departed, not wanting to be thought of as a stalker by any passerby’s and returned to his home. Wondering all the while about the new side of his classmate he discovered. The side which he never thought she had ever been open about before.

The school was full of life the next day. Everyone discussing plans for the winter break. Some were going skiing to the mountains; others were visiting family.

“Hey John,” a voice called towards him.

Blinking from the surprise he turned his gaze to his friend who stood in front of his desk. Leaning over to get his attention the minute he turned his gaze.

“Oh, hey Eric,” John replied, “what is it?”

“Were you staring out the window again?” Eric replied with a smirk.

“Um…no I was thinking about what we discussed today in class.”

“Oh, you seem to have been doing that a lot lately. Anyway, what are you doing for the break?”

John remained silent as he contemplated how to answer that question.

“I think my family is visiting, but I’m still waiting for my sister to tell me for sure,” he replied. “What about you?”

“Going skiing with my family for a few days, why don’t you and your family tag along; I can ask my parents if that’s alright. I’m sure it will be a lot more fun with you there.”

John averted his eyes before replying, “That might be fun, I’ll see if my family wants to; but it will take a while for them to confirm.”

“Glancing towards the window again huh?” Eric teased before glancing over himself. He saw the girl staring out the window again. She was always glancing out the window if she wasn’t scanning her textbook.

Leaning forward Eric whispered in John’s ear, “Don’t bother with that one, she’s a loner,” he teased.

“Why do you say that?”

“She doesn’t have any friends; she also spends all of her time listening to music. If I were you, I would stay away from her.”

John ignored him and continued to glance at the girl from his side of the classroom.

The bell rang.

I rose from my seat and walked out of the room. I didn’t want to linger today. There were too many eyes on me in the class. While I kept mine facing the window, I could feel their stares. I heard the whispers moving through the room. Whisking around the desks. The hallways were busy, the clattering of lockers rang amid the footsteps. When I closed mine, a shoulder nudged me from the side. I stuttered and fell into someone.

“You okay?” a girl spoke quickly asked as she caught my arms with her own.

“I’m fine, sorry,” I replied quickly before gathering my feet and walking out into the afternoon sun.

The walk home was a bit louder than normal. There were lots of footsteps around me. It was a bit nerve racking. I didn’t like crowds. I stayed later at school because it usually allowed me to have peace with my surroundings. Yet, the stares from those within the classroom, I couldn’t handle them today. My body shook from the impulse overload.

Thankfully, most of the students headed for the convenience store on the opposite side of the street, so I could relax a bit once they broke off from the group. When I reached my house, I went inside without hesitation. Slumping to the ground, I held my breath as I relaxed my body. It was too much. I couldn’t see them directly, but I felt them all glancing at me.

“What a weird girl I must be to them.”

I let out a heavy breath. Heading upstairs I gathered my guitar and my picks. The weather was warm today, odd for this time of year, but I wasn’t about to let it get away from me. I sat down upon the stone steps outside my home and began dragging the pick across the strings. Fine tuning the notes. Finding the correct strength for the string tension. It was something I was used to now, tuning my guitar. Every time I did so, it felt as if I was relearning the instrument. Or at least, finding myself all over again.

“I didn’t know you played the guitar.”

The voice was soft. I glanced up at the source of where it originated.

John stood before the girl. He noticed her amid the crowd. She clung to herself as she walked. Curiosity taking over, he followed her to see where she would retreat to once she escaped the pack of other students.

“Who are you?” the girl sitting on the steps asked.

“My name’s John, we’re in the same class.”

“Okay.” She replied with little meaning as she returned her attention back to her guitar.

“What kind of music do you play?” John replied trying to sound interested, he was, but he felt she did not hear his intent.

She didn’t respond, turning her fingers to the final string upon the instrument. Striking it she twisted the tuning key on the head. The ring of the guitar spun from high to low frequency as the string was tightened.

“Your name was Jenny, right?” John asked once the string’s vibration stopped.

She let out a sigh before replying, “Yes, now if you don’t mind, I’d like to concentrate.” She spoke while keeping her head down.

John remained silent as Jenny moved through the strings once more, confirming their frequency. The sense he was beginning to bother her set in.

Turning to leave, his movement was halted by the sound of the guitar strings being struck.

Not violently in a rage, but as if one was resonating with a calm breeze. Turning back, he saw Jenny strum her guitar. Her head moved in rhythm to the beat of her song. It sounded like a ballad. The soft melody. The calm notes. Then she began to sing.

John became captivated as the song rang through his ears. There was passion within her voice as she sang. While she spoke no words; there was a strange message within her voice. A deep meaning. As if she was trying to speak out against the unfairness she faced.

When she finished, she turned to John and for the first time he saw why she seemed so distant to everyone. Why she acted so differently.

“That was beautiful,” John spoke.

“Thanks, I’ve been working on it for a while now.”

“Do you usually listen to soft music?”

“Why do you care?”

“Well, you seem kind of lonely,” John replied trying to remain calm as the nerves began wracking his brain.

“No one ever really seemed to care. Everyone laughs and joins in the ‘fun’.”

“Why not try joining the music club at school?” It might be a new kind of ‘fun,’ not the kind where you get hurt, but the kind where you gain a better connection to people.”

“I’ve never really had any kind of connection with anyone.” Jenny stated, “most people avoid me since I’m different. They’re afraid of the connection they will receive if they are seen with me. An outsider.”

“I feel as if your music can spark a different connection. Like it did for me,” John replied.

After a moment she replied, “Do you play?”

“I used to,” John replied, averting his gaze.

Jenny held out her guitar towards him. “Will you play something for me?”

John turned back before putting on a small smile. Taking the guitar, he slung it over his shoulder; Jenny moved over to allow him to sit next to her. He played a rock song, messing up a few times, but slowly remembering the finger positions.

He turned to Jenny with a smile; knowing full well she couldn’t see it, yet he knew she could hear the joy in the music he played.

She smiled back. Her iris glittering within the white misty cover.