Peter Pov:

I woke up very late in the day, it was past midday. I was feeling a bit gloomier than usual. I got what I slightly hoped for; I dreamt about my Mom. I saw her for a brief moment at first. She was beautifully dressed in what seem like a white medieval attire. She look healthy and full of life but relatively younger.

Then I saw her again; this time she was with Dad, they look so young. Mom was wearing a loose white blouse and a Skirt while Dad was wearing a casual T-shirt that stuck to his body and a baggy jean, his physique look quite stunning, more or less an older version of me. I’ve never seemed to notice how handsome he is. They fitted each other like a puzzle walking hand in hand. They seemed to be on a date as they walked into Iliac Café

It felt like I was watching them from a distant, I could see them but can’t get close nor talk to them. They can’t see me nor talk to me.

I watched as they eat, talk and laughed. They looked so in love with each other. Ever since I was old enough to be conscious of my environment. I’ve never seen this amount of shown affection within them, atleast not from Dad, Mom seemed to ever love him.

It was a detailed illusion created by my brain; it was showing me what I wanted to see.

I decided to take the girl’s advice and stay back at home. I wasn’t in the right mind to socialize with people. It would be totally unfair to flip on people who had genuine concern for my well being. That felt strange, before I wouldn’t have cared, I would have done it either way to fuel my ego. But for some reason I felt different, I look the world from a different perspective now, I understand better how people feel and what pain is.

I went into my Mom’s room to see if I could find anything eye catching and burn away the time. How clean and serene her room is stuns me everytime I stepped into it. It felt like the calmest place in the world.

I looked around to check every anything that could catch my interest. I saw her pyjama on the hanger, it has been left untouched since she went to the hospital. I walked to it and smelled the top. Her essence was still there, it was fading but present. I put on the pyjamas the shirt I was wearing and allowed the smell to envelop me.

I felt something hard against my abdomen. I didn’t know what it was, I dipped my hand into the pyjama. I discovered it had an inner pocket. I brought out the content, I recognized my mom vitamin pill box. I’ve often seen her seallow it’s content.

Dad always brought it for her from any of his travels so she always had an endless supply of it. I remembered how he asked if I had seen the pill box the night of her burial. I told him, I haven’t seen though I was bewildered he was looking for it.

I popped open it’s lid and took a peak at its contents. The pills were somewhat oval and dark blue in colour, quite an unusual colour and shape for a vitamin pill. I covered it and read the inscription on the container. It was the same old medical mumbo jumbo.

I walked to her dresser and placed the pill box at the extreme end of the last drawer and closed it.

I walked around her room briefly checking out the poems hanging on her walls till I sighted a piano. I have forgotten about it, completely wiped out of my memory.

It was my old piano, I had learned it at one point of my younger years. My mother bought it for my 8th birthday and made me learn it. She always fancied pianists and wanted me to be one.

I became really good at it at some point and played it whilst she sat beside me and listened. She always talked about the joy and calmness it brought her watching me play whilst she listened.

My tutor, Mrs. Bonnie often referred to me as a talent much to the delight of my mother. But with time I grew bored of it and pursued other interests, one that will get attention of girls, one of which was football.

Mom complained at first about not attending tutoring practices and then not practicing at all, but soon got tired of complaining and gave up on his son ever becoming a pianist. She never spoke about it again. Deep down she must have been very sad and disappointed, I sighed.

I removed the cover, it was a bit dusty. Mere staring at it flooded me with bittersweet memories. I looked for a rag to dust it. I found one and cleaned it thoroughly. It looked so beautiful, I remembered she once told me she bought it for $3,000. It totally worths it atleast for the aesthetics

I found a stool to sit on and tried pressing a few notes. I was trying to get the hang of it, it seems so odd, I felt alien to it. I tried one of the easiest piece I could remember, it was the very first piece I could play perfectly then; Beethoven fur elise.

It sounded awful and I was completely off key. I tried again and again till started getting the hang of it. I finally played it to a certain level of satisfaction and proceed to “Canon” then “Bluestone alley-congfei-wei”, each played perfectly after a series of trial and error.

I didn’t know where their name nor the ability to play them where coming from but they came back to me. With more time passed I got even better. It felt like I opened a door in brain, keeping out the memories from me as they flooded my mind. I kept playing my heart out till I grew tired. I laid on the bed to get a shut-eye.

I woke up quite later in the day. I’ve completely lost the track of time. I looked outside the window to see it getting dark. I felt an intense hunger. I realized I haven’t eaten all day. I contemplated on what to eat, either to take a walk and get a roadside junk on the way or perhaps find a restaurant to dine. Either way I wanted to leave the house, I have remained indoor a whole day I was feeling cooped.

I stepped into the bathroom to take a bath, I haven’t taken a bath all day neither. I stared at myself in the mirror, I look weak and tired. There was a time I would have spent a quarter of an hour in front of the mirror checking myself out before taking a bath, I sighed.

I came out of the bathroom dripping wet. I wiped my body and looked for something to wear. I picked a T-shirt and a baggy trouser. I looked for a hoodie, the nights have been very chilly these past few days. I found a very big black one. I was quite satisfied with it, it would serve the purpose of keeping out the cold.

I stepped out of the house, it was quite darker than I saw earlier. I checked the time on my phone it was past 8PM. I must have spent an awful lot of time in the bathroom and picking what to wear, I sighed.

I started walking, the street was bright as usual. There are more people on the streets in relative to yesterday, that was no suprise considering the difference in time.

It was a bit rowdy. Homeless people loitered the street. Couples walked hand in hand on the pedestrian walkway. A Truck driver almost caused an accident by disobeying the traffic lights, he was probably drunk. I saw a bunch of people clamoring around an individual, I got closer to see what was the cause of the tumult. It was a street performer, he was playing the violin. Apparently he was playing so well, the crowd were wowed by his performance. I could see with the amount of coins he was tipped with in his bowl. I was also impressed with the little I heard. I walked down the paths I took yesterday night, I knew exactly where I was going and what I was doing but feigned ignorance till I finally arrived at the front of the restaurant.

I hesitated a bit before stepping inside.