"If you could see what I hear."

Music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person in the room. Some react to the beat, others continue in chatter, but always it speaks to them in some manner. A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or move them to dance, while a slow one can relax the mood. Before the notes filled the air every person was an island, with it they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginnings of togetherness feels warm

Lila lived for music. If she could hear it played live she began to tingle, even for a solitary instrument. There was something about the vibrations that felt so heavenly, as if it were liquid energy seeping right through her skin. I always say it was because she was talented, that her mind over compensated, but Lila swore she'd be just the same way with or without her talent. Perhaps that's why she learnt to play so well, she felt it, craved it, expressed emotions better than any of her peers.

He sit very perfectly at the piano bench. Swifly moving her feet to the pedal and looking intently at the music rack of the piano with papers of Beethoven's pieces like moonchild and eroica symphony

The piano was elusive and grandeur

It was a grand structure molded to the center left of the stage; all shiny, pitch black until the pianist lifts the fall. And then the row of pure ivory keys march into view. They shimmer in the sparkling stage light as if they are the moon on a starry night; bright, beautiful, and breath-taking. And the sound they create--oh the music they sing, stirs wonders in my soul. It is a beautiful structure that stands center left stage, in physic and in purpose.

Along the wood that lines the top of each key, curling golden letters spell "Steinway & Sons", such a beautiful name and so elegant and expensive. Perfect, and graceful.

One of a kind.

The grand piano, that sits center left stage.

While I, myself was holding a brush and acrylic paints. Smudging some light colors to the canvass even though it's very daunting to paint something without seeing it but it's just my emotion that creates every masterpiece

The painting takes me far away to another time, another life. In this picture the pebbles crunch beneath my winter boots and the waves lap in their steady rhythm, frigid and laced with sea-foam. Their melody is soporific, this music of water dragging eon rounded stones up and down the house. Amongst the brush strokes of hues that are muted as if bleached by millions of years of sun, I can taste the salty air and feel it chill my icy face. From the upper left corner the gulls cry, circling until the fishing fleet returns. And there, right in the foreground is a rowboat of aging wood and paint that curls like potato peelings when I cut them too thick. It hardly looks sea worthy but I'm already in it, bobbing on the sun-speckled water, eyes on the horizon where blue meets blue

When my hand moves over the canvass it's almost like my mind is directing my hand without me, odd perhaps, but that's the way it is. My hand moves instinctively to the right spot, building a new picture, often one I have never seen before. In these fantastical worlds I see reflections of my own mind, the way I think, but there is something else there too. I don't know what, perhaps I just imagine it, but when I paint I feel closest to our creator and it gives me a peace I cannot find another way.

"I need to say something to you Mom." Lila said after the last note had finished. I stop from moving my hand to the white fabric and just tilted my head upright

"Yes honey?" I responded while pouring the right amount of light colors into my palette while using my senses to feel the slimy texture of the oils and paints that I'll use

"Is it hard to paint a picture when you don't have any eyes?" Lila asked while the tone of her voice were sounding like a big question mark

"Being blind doesn't make me less an artist Lila, I may lack of eyesight but my emotions and other senses are still present. Their are my gateway to creativity." I just move my head towards where I feel Lila is standing. I may not see her physically but my cohesive sensing ability were making me feel her presence in our nine feet and six inches by ten feet and six inches sala

"I thought it's hard for you, I can't imagine myself not having a pair of eyes because our eyes are like windows and without those windows, we're nothing." I can hear the sound of his footsteps and its making me aware that she's coming near me

"No honey, I can still continue my passion without my eyes as long as I have my hands to intricate some colors to my canvass then that's perfectly fine. You aren't anywhere near understanding this right now but the world doesn't always gives us what we deserve." I did feel a hefty force shoving at my lap and when I was about to smell its scent, my mind already configurated that its my daughter who's cupping my jaw and brushing my hair with her small and brittle fingers

"Mom, I met a boy under the brinks of my bed last night." Lilas voice was shallow but caustic at the same time as if she was terrified to go to sleep

"A boy?" I asked furiously while wiping my obviously dirty hands unto my shirt

"Yes a boy and he's scary, he said that he was once the owner of my eyes and he wants to take it back in exchange of prosperity. Is it true mom?" Her breathe was constantly fanning my hardened face

I can't answer her question as if there's a big lump on my throat. It made me froze from where I am, I was taken aback from my memories two years ago after the incident when Lila had a glaucoma–– an eye condition that damages the optic nerve which she inherited from me. and as a mother, I need to come up with a solution and the only solution I had that time is to find a cornea donor but unfortunately, there's no available donor in those days

I was desperate that time and would've given up until there's this little boy named George who happens to be our neighbour in Mabelreign street and the only playmate of Lila gotten into an accident five kilometres away from our abode

I wish to God that I'd never do it to the kid if only I have the option. I'm so scared that Lila might have the same fate that I have so, I hoisted the kid, placed and hide its immobile body on our backyard after getting the kid's set of eyes to attach it on Lila's

I was paused from evoking my memories years ago when I felt Lila's fingers stopped brushing my hair, her soft palms were snug as it rested right through my scalp

"Have you asked the name?" I raised my hand above my head to catch his hand in surprise

"No but I'll be asking him later." I instantly wag my head in contradiction to what she had said

"Don't ever believe in such things maybe you're too indulge in scary television programs. Stop that now." I said in a acerbic voice while my hands immediately looks for my walking stick at the near table which is two meters away from where I was perching. I'm about to stand up for I have found my balance when Lila's words stunned me

"If you could only see what I hear mom, you'd understand where this is all coming from." She said with full conviction while standing up as well and held my right hand to accost me to her room

They both walked the hallway

Lila followed her mom, not knowing quite what to expect. Maybe her mother had imposed some personality on the bedroom before she went to school years back. Stepping across the threshold she felt the walls close in on her. It was a chintz nightmare of frills and flowers - pink and orange everywhere. On the beside table sat a doily and a lamp that could have just leapt out of the nineteen forties. The air still carried the scent of glue from new carpet and wallpaper. There wasn't a trace of hope left, the door must have barely swung shut behind her before her mother had gotten inside.

The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall.

All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out

"Pray before sleeping Lila." Her mother's cautionary voice made Lila close her eyes and clasp her both hands to pray. Her mother turned off the light and closes the door, Lila was left alone in her bed

"I know you're there, go come out now. My mom has left already." Lila was left mumbling underneath her bed until he heard a sound of a boy whispering back "I want my eyes now Lila."

In the inky blackness lay a savage double-headed boy. His teeth, eerily incandescent, emitted a strange blue glow and were as sharp as a fine diamond sword. His skin was mostly scar tissue and Lila shivered in the early fall breeze. What fur there had been was tufty and thin, providing no protection to the elements at all. On his torso and face were recent scabs from a meal that had fought back, now he picked at them with blood-caked claws to relieve the boredom of the stake-out. Then came movement from the dwelling, Lila's wait was almost over. For such a scary boy moved with surprising stealth, leaving behind only a trail of large dandruff flakes and his heinous odour

"I'll give you back your eyes just promise me that you'll never hurt my mom." Lila said, throwing some glances at the boy

"But your mom's a murderer Lila, she killed me two years ago by intentionally shooting her gun at me when I was about to go to your house, bringing some toys to play with you. Your mother should be in jail." The voice of the boy was low and raspy that made Lila shudder

Lila's mouth opened in a silent scream and her unblinking eyes popped like an fashioned toy doll. A bead of cool sweat dripped down her back and her skin became as pale as the knife blade that flashed before her

"No, don't hurt my mom George. I wanted her to continue on doing what she does best and that is painting. Even without her eyes, she's still very good at it and even without me, I wanted her to continue her passion. So don't hurt her, I'm begging you." Lila knelt down on the cushion of her bed while connecting both of her hands to beg the boy from not hurting his mother

"Okay. Now, can I get my eyes now Lila?" The boy leaned closer to Lila as she was about to rip the eyeballs of the girl

"Wait, can I cry for one last time?" She look at the boy with its misty eyes

The boy nodded as Lila cried at the perpetual night while his forehead were full of perspiration that keeps on descending down to her neck and after the cry. The boy came closer to Lila's face and began ripping out her eyes using the tip of his knife

In their intense silence Lila somehow screamed with his whole body. The mouth wide with horror, the ears rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand. It was the kind of scream that made someones' blood run cold. It pierced the brain and ignited some primeval pathway. Adrenaline surged through her veins

Lila felt that there's already nothing occupying his eyelids and creases for the boy had taken away his eyeballs

Lila took the knife from the boy as her fingers curled around the black handle of the bread knife, her decision was made and it was to kill herself for she cannot take the pain engulfing in the insides of her body anymore

"Thank you Lila, I have my eyes with me and I promise not to hurt your mom as her talent will keep on flourishing. Sleep well." The boy whispered near the earlobes of Lila before kissing her goodbye.