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Alex's Mission Journal
A sweet Song for You


September 10, 2008
As I went out to throw the rubbish, the wind blows a strand of my hair into my eyes. I try to push it aside but I could barely lift my hand; A soft bell rung within the distance. a young boy running to his mother, the sense of utter lost I finally felt seeing that boy. Suddenly it was so clear to me that I never been able to move on.
Sweet memories are hard to remember but painful ones are always the ones that are easy to remember, I am living proof of that. My feet seem to run in a distance, I don’t know where, but I let them take me where since they seem to have a better memory than I do.
Leaves fall slowly as autumn approaches, the sweet scent of summer has vanished, and the cold icy wind of winter is burning in my heart.
This place, as I stand outside an old antic shop. This is where it all started; I slowly made my way to the door and touched the soft teak wood door. The strong stench of dust is still as strong as the memory itself provoked.

April 26th, 1991
“Julia!” the owner of the shop Mrs. Chan called me. Her black oily hair stood in attention.
“Yes Ma’am?”
“Here,” she says, handing me a sheet of paper with something scrawled on it.
“I have ordered some items from this place. You think you could swing by there and pick it up? “
“Sure,” I was always eager to help Mrs. Chan, after all it wasn’t for her; I wouldn’t have any place to stay in.
The sound of a bell tinkled in my ear. The pitter patter of feet was heard and the sounds of voices were raised.
As I walked near my destination, a soft melody began to play. I turned around and stopped for a moment. The music began to play its tricks on me. At first, it started with a soul drawl and then the notes began to run faster. As if a playful boy was running around and was causing the joyous feeling you get when you are happy. It tickled n unusual sensation to me. I felt like playing too.
My feet begin to dance and my eyes begin to close. As I dance, foolishly I might add, in the streets. The melody was much more audible now; the strange sensation was stronger than ever.
Suddenly, the melody stopped and so did my feet. I looked up and saw that I was in front of a fancy looking mansion. It stood there, big and proud. When I peered closer, a head of a boy was staring back at me. His liquid golden eyes begin to shimmer brightly.
After a moment, he disappears and with him, the memory of ever hearing the melody as I hesitated to finish my work.
The next day, I lazily slouched against the wall, completely exhausted from the cleaning which I had done earlier. My fingers began to press on the various buttons on the cashier. The ringing sound the cashier made had filled the silent was slowly lurking into the afternoon. Mrs. Chan was out for the day as she went to visit a friend of hers.
The sound of bell has alarmed me.
Yes, I squealed excitedly to myself, a customer!
A light haired boy approaches the counter, his places a piece of paper onto the counter.
“Excuse me,” his violet voice sent shivers in my ear “My mother asked me to pick up something she said she had pre-ordered here.”
“Yes, well,” I said squinting at the paper and checking the book where I write down orders. “I don’t seem to see her name her. May I know her name please?”
After a few moments of silence I looked up, annoyed because he had not answered my question. He was standing near the ancient piano that stood in a corner. Sometimes, I wonder why Mrs. Chan bothered to even place it there; she doesn’t even know how to play the piano.
I walked closer to him and touched his shoulder. I forced him to face me. But when I saw shards of ice in his eyes, I was immediately silenced.
“Are you alright?”
He uses his sleeves to wipe his eyes. I handed him a tissue but he refused. He ran out of the door.
“Wha-“ I turned around and saw the sheet of paper on the counter. I picked it up and read it. Maybe, this wouldn’t be our last meeting at all.
In the evening, I decided to take a walk. I was on my way to my favourite book store. I haven’t read a book in months, and I was itching to reconnect with the fantasy world.
And then I saw him. The boy, he stood in front of a rack of books. His eyes, half-opened and his light hair seem to be the only thing that was interesting there.
He sees me and walks near. I stand back, not knowing what to do.
“Hey,” he says, smiling “You’re the girl in the antique shop. I remember you.”
“Well, I don’t remember you,” I caressed my hair.
He laughs. It echoes in my ear.
“Do you er-play the piano,” I try to say politely.
He raised his eyebrow, “Yes,” he admits sheepishly
“Oh, do you live in that big house down the street?”
“Why do you think that?” he sound offended.
“Because you look rich,” I shrug.
“Yeah, I do,” then he adds “Unfortunately,”
It was meant to be a whisper but it was visibly audible.
“What do you mean? Why the long face?”
“Well,” he hesitates “I want to become a pianist,”
“Wow, but that’s a hard life. Full of sharks”
Again, the violet laugh “Isn’t life like that?”
Hmm, obviously toying with me, I decided to continue the conversation anyway.
“But,” he lowers his tone “I can’t.”
I raised an eyebrow, and my eyes grew intense.
“Why not?”
“My dad wouldn’t let me. Because well you see, he owns this big company you see, and well I’m the only heir. So I can’t do anything else,” he tells me sadly.
He begins to walk away, but I can’t let him go. Not without a question first.
“Hey, you know, I passed your house once,”
This might interest him, as he turns around, eager to hear what I have to say.
“I heard somebody play a melody in your house,” the memory dances around my brain and begins to give me a gigantic headache.
His cheeks begin to flush and his eyes grew wide. His opens his mouth and throws me a book.
“Hey!”
“Tomorrow I will play again! S-so you better come!” he disappears after that.
I stay silent as I kneel down to pick up some books. What have I gotten myself into?
Okay, I said to myself as I stood in front of the manor the next day, Calm down. You didn’t want to get yourself into this!
“What are you doing outside?” a timid girl says to me. She looked about to be in her early twenties, her big blue eyes complemented her black outfit. She was wearing an apron and a white headband on her head.
Maybe she’s the maid here, I decided.
“Oh, you must be Master Luke’s guest,” she said sweetly. “He has been expecting you,”
She pulls me inside. She was quite strong even with my reluctance.
A soft melody reached my ears as I got closer.
“What a sweet song,” I hear myself say.
“Master Luke, you guest is here,”
“Thank you Eva, you may go now,”
She bowed a little and went off.
I timidly went near the piano, and hit a key. The soft sound reached my ears and into my heart. “You play beautifully,”
“Thank you.”
“Did you make that song?”
“No.” he flexes his fingers “Eva is the one who taught me this song. She teaches me sometimes,”
“Oh really?”
He nods.
“But,” he takes the sheets “
“I’m more interested in making music. Songs that will play forever even after my death. I want to enter music school, but what to do? My father wouldn’t let me,”
My eyes begin to water and my lip begins to quiver. However, I manage to say these words.
“Your world is different than mine. I want to become a teacher! The lady owner said if I worked…if I worked extra hard she will send me to a teaching course. That time, that time my dream will be realised.”
He shrugs and places his hands on my head.
“Believe in yourself, and then you can,”
He smiles and brings himself up. “I think I can realize my dream,”
“H-h-how,” I squeaked
“I may able to realized my dream,” he slowly repeats “But I won’t,”
“Why not,”
He gets closer and gently places his hand my shoulder, he reaches for my head and places his lips.
“Because, I’m not you,”
If I count my fingers one by one, I wouldn’t be able to count the times I thought about him. The sweet scent of his skin, the gentle soft kisses he gives or even the melodies he played for me.
“What is your name?” he asked me as we sit below the inky black canvas. The canvas was decorated with millions of twinkling lights blinking at me.
“Melody,” I answered
“Melody…” he takes a rose and twirls it. It is an illusion. It dazzles me for a minute.
“Sweet name,”
“Oh yeah?” I said half teasingly “What’s yours?”
“Luke,” he looks at me.
“Look,” he says to me.
When I look up a twinkling diamond is winking at me. It makes me happy to see it. It is the prettiest one in the sky
I like that one,” he points one that is shining brightly. It grabs my attention as I watched it in awe.
“I’m going to name it!” he says. He thinks for a moment.
“So,” I say after a while “What are you going to name it?”
“Melody,”

“You can’t do this!” Mrs. Chan pushes me aside. My body slumps as it hits the wall. The impact had left an incredible pain in my back.
“You can’t be friends with that boy? Don’t you know who he is?”
“I- I don’t understand!”
“He is Luke Salisbury, son of the Duke Salisbury, the richest man in this area!”
I stay silent as she throws a book. It misses me, instead, hits right on top of my head.
I shake in fear.
“If you were an intelligent girl, you’d forget about him,” she shouts at me. Her hair is in tangles and her round face is red and patchy.

But, I think to myself, I love him.

Luke came to visit me. I thought he was feeling lonely. And I felt like a huge burden to him.
“Hey Melody,” his violet voice sends shivers down my spine ad he gently caressed my hair. Roughly I pushed it away. These unwanted feelings are not so easy to have and if they go unstable, it would mean trouble for us.
“Melody, “he looks hurt. My heart felt like needles were pricking on it. It was unbearable to see him sad.
He sits down in front of me. I faced the piano that was in the corner. “Look, here,”
He was holding several sheets of paper. “I like this song. I made it myself.” He sits in front of the piano. “And,” he looks at me, “It’s a love song,”
A sad melody played and was audible for all who was there. Have I stolen his dream, I couldn’t help but wonder, if he hadn’t met me he wouldn’t have become a public nuisance and an embarrassment to his family.
Hard work is often the thing that makes our dreams crashed. For us poor folks, it can rob once dream and crushed it just like that. I knew of this more than Luke does.
Yet, he is still strong enough to face the sad pathetic part of life, while I couldn’t even embrace such thing.
“Why are you crying?”
I hesitate and quickly wiped the many tears forming in my eyes.
“Nothing,” I offer a fake smile at him, “It is just so beautiful,”
“I know,”
“Melody, one day, my aunt is going to buy a pipe organ!”
“Wow!”
“I’ve always wanted to play it! Heh, one dream has come true already!”
My eyes avoided contact with his. ‘You have robbed his dream,’ a small voice said to me. I can’t help but believe it’s true.
“I’ll see you later Melody,” he says, as he hurries and packs his things.
“What? You just got here!”
“I want help aunt move that pipe organ!” he runs. He waves at me, I weakly wave back.
That was the last I saw of Luke Salisbury.

April 18th, 1992
Eva slowly approaches me. Her eyes seem a lot older now. And she beautiful black hair was cut boy short.
“Miss Melody is it?”
“Yes,”
“I...I... have terrible news,” she leans closer to me and whispers in my ear. The news she brings has formed a stab in my heart. I kneel down as crystal like droplets form in my eyes slowly.
“I’m sorry Miss,” she hands me something wrapped in blue silk.
“What’s this?”
“He died clutching this, and I think I is for you,”
When I open it, it is a piece of paper. A picture of a star was drew and words were scribbled in the bottom
Dear Melody,
If only I could say what I wish too. But I cannot. The truth is I don’t care what they think. Not anymore. I plan to collect my own money and then enter music school. Then will my dream finally be realized.

Yours,
Luke

Poor, poor Luke. All he wanted was to go to music school and he died when the organ fell on him while they were moving it. He died with his dream which he never lived. The stencilled wood spoke a lot of volumes to me. I quickly ran home.
I am married now. Married to a man I would never love and respect the way I love and respect Luke. When I entered the place I called home but it is not mine, I sat on the sofa. The memories were rushing to me and I couldn’t take it. I wasn’t a strong person.
I turned on the television. Maybe watching a few dramas will get my mind off of Luke. Little did I know, I was actually putting salt in the wound.
‘We interrupt this programme, to bring special news. A historical landmark was to be demolished earlier this week. But due to the strong protesting, work has been cut back. Here we have the leader, Miss Amy Williams.
I know that building! It’s was Luke’s house. I didn’t know it was still standing. All my memories, my moments, his sweet words are going to be demolished?
‘Thank you’ a strange woman grabs the microphone from the reporter.
‘Well, Ms. Amy, what inspired you to protect this landmark?’
‘Well,’ she points at something that was covered in red cloth.
‘This piano manages to withstand years and,” she hits a key ‘it’s still going strong,’
Luke’s…Luke’s piano? My heart skipped a beat. I start to sweat.
The reporter nods but Miss. Amy continues her story
‘I found these music notes,’
She moves near the piano and sits in front of it.
‘I hope everyone will like this song. I’ve practiced it many times.’
The soft melody immediately leaves me shaken. I look out the window and into the sky.
‘’ I’m more interested in making music. Songs that will play forever even after my death,”
Can’t you hear it playing Luke?
Your song is still playing.
It is still alive.
Can’t you hear it playing for me?
Your favourite star, Melody…wants to be with you. I reached for the sky; One more time, Luke. Take me back.
-The End-





rifah94
Community Member
rifah94
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  • [07/25/09 01:44am]
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