// Development //
A cup of tea and a plate broke in the floor, just like her thoughts. Her hands let everything fall to the ground without much importance, nothing else mattered anymore, not right now that her ears heard the fresh news, at least fresh for her, since it happened a while ago. Lenore just couldn't believe it.
"How could you... how could you do that?!" She yelled getting up sharply as her chair fell down behind her, again, not caring.
"Darling, I can explain..." Said the lady right in front of her, the same woman that happened to be her own mother, she, the killer of her father. "Liar!" -retorted the daughter.
The words of forgiveness were not enough, not a single attempt to explain how did the event occurred, nothing could be enough to calm her most wounded feelings. Since she left home, one of her dreams was to see her dear father again at the eyes and embrace him, tell him that she was sorry for all the harm that she have done, and maybe, just maybe, fill that void of his soul with pride by playing the piano for him, just for him; Lenore dreamed many nights about that moment, she could even feel the presence of his father sometimes by her side, like if he were looking for her at the same time, and it wasn't like if she didn't want her mother to do the same, but now, she might have preferred to be left alone and to live the life of an illusion.
Between screaming and crying, Enora tried to calm her daughter by holding her shoulders but Lenore slapped her hands away. "Get your filthy fingers away from me..." The woman knew that she was guilty of the pain that her daughter was feeling and had pent for years, but what could she do now? death was something that she had no control, only could cause, but even herself was a victim of pain and sorrow. A moment of silence was finally given, their eyes gazed at each other, feelings of anger, guilt, and sadness filled the air in the room, and suddenly Lenore spoke again.
"You'll listen to me play..."
A white piano stood in a dark room that scarcely let in light from the window, Lenore sat right in front of it while Enora was standing behind her like a spectator. The young girl snapped her fingers and let them fall heavily over the keys making a deep and strong sound, and so started to play a soft melody that was getting more sad and powerful each time. The sound of the keys were such a torture for the widow, even though her daughter was the spitting image of her she couldn't deny that it was like inside her she had the spirit of her father, so devoted and passionate, but Lenore sounded more sad than she remembered, sadder than that little girl that used to sit in the living room for hours to learn a song by herself, sadder than that little girl who ran to her knees showing her fingers cut, crying and blaming herself for being so sloppy.
While she sat there playing in silence, it was like the melody did all the job for her to make listen her most hidden feelings, all that pain that she had inside; each key freed her, and though her mother was not the one who had to be a witness, she was also part of the song of her life.
Lenore & Enora c) *MaryLittleRose