Masks
A subtle, gentle breeze picked up the fallen dried-up sun-kissed leaves and brought them further away from the aged tree which they descended from. Brian briskly opened the rusty gates which seemed to whine in agony. He quickly tiptoed towards the glass door to his home and inserted the key into the keyhole. As soon as the glass door revealed his rundown home, a hand of scars and marks as evident of previous heavy metalwork came striking intensely across Brian’s face and flung him towards the concrete wall, bringing a piercing sensation to his eyes as he landed on the ice-cold ground.
Brian was accustomed to the ill-treating from his father. There was never a day in which he was let off by this abusive man. Whenever he was crushed under the hands of his father, all he could do was to hurriedly pick himself up and silently go off into his bedroom where he would bury his face in the covers to muffle his cries of grief. He had never had a friend whom he could confide in. All of his schoolmates were kept in the dark about this dark menacing secret. Being a boy of pride, Brian never failed to keep his emotions tight behind his painted smile, not allowing anyone to step into his life, into this stiffened heart of his. Neither did he have a mother whom he could share in troubles with as she had left for another man, for good. All the she left behind had turned out to be Brian’s only source of comfort and relief – the enormous nine-foot long grand Steinway piano which she used to teach her piano students and Brian. Not only did it allow Brian to express all of his inexpressible difficulties in life, be it to finally open up or just consolation, it had been his companion since the abandonment of his mother and it had never failed to bring him joy and peace from this tormenting, living hell of his.
“But dad…” Briana desperately begged his father, “I really want this chance in the competition…” he continue. Without nothing, Brian’s father grabbed his dark brown curly hair and brought him close towards his body in anguish. Brian moaned in anguish, “Dad, place!” “Enough!” yelled Brian’s father with infuriation. “Speak one more work about this and you’re dead! Don’t even think about signing up for the auditions! Don’t you even dare!” His bloodshot eyes glared straight into Brian’s with heightened intensity. Brian wanted so badly to compete in the Youth State Piano Competition. It was his dream to be part of the competition ever since he heard of it from his mother, who had to pull him about after signing him up for the auditions when he decided to divorce her alcoholic husband. Brian could not help but forge his father’s signature on the consent form. He knew that he would be in deep trouble if he was found out, but who could let this opportunity slip away just like that, especially when it was his passion to play music. After all, he knew he would sail through the auditions with ease.
With a smart bow, and a faint smile across his face, Brian took his position in front of the piano and took and deep breath. He was nervous, and his left hand which was crippled under the inflicted injuries from his father trembled uncontrollably, but he constantly told himself, “Why let a moment of anxiousness ruin the enjoyment of music, and even the chance of winning that coveted title? No, I will not let them see my flaws.” He placed his fingers onto the keys and took a quick glance to the audience, looking out for anyone he knew – namely his father. Once he did not spot him in the crowd, he proceeded to play the first of three movements of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in C Sharp Minor. The moment he struck the dulceimar instrument with the touch of a gifted and talented pianist, he caught the audience in awe. There was no stopping nor turning back. He indulged in the music, perfectly coordinating his fingers and striking the correct notes, with perfect phrasing and articulation. His suspensions left the audience high in anticipation and his musical directions like “Fuoco” and “Tranquillo” were done amazingly, brilliantly contrasting the two completely different movements with extreme accuracy before attempting the final “Adagio” movement. As he lightly struck the last note to his piece, he paused for a moment before sinking into the audience’s acclamation and standing ovation. Brian knew that he had played his best and no matter what results await, he was satisfied.
As the final three competitors, including Brian, were standing in front of the audience, the crowd waited in anticipation and crossed their fingers as the master of ceremony announced the winner of the competition. “Brian!” he yelled, lifting the audience in a roar of celebration and continuous applause. It actually is me, though Brian, as he took a moment to get the thoughts in his mind organised. As he took a step forward to receive the trophy, he noticed a familiar silhouette right at the back of the concert hall. He trembled with fear as he hastily went backstage where reporters were waiting their turns to interview him. “You must have had great support from your friends and family, in order to get through this immense pressure and anxiety!”One reporter asked. “Well, I definitely had wonderful and great support from my friends and family.” Brian muttered, smiling faintly at the reporter. Who knew, that behind this mask of a young and courageous teenager lies a dreadful obstacle-filled story?
