Morning 4:40 AM. It was civil twilight, the sky was the bluest blue it ever was. Kristn was walking up the stairs of the stadium. That stadium where the concert was held last night. Soda cans and chips packets lay around. As he climbed up, the changing rooms and washrooms became visible. They spread out on either sides of the white wall that faced the stairs. Their black doors reminded Kristn of his piano keys. He stepped out of the stairs and stood facing the wall. He looked all around examining the whole area, left to right. There she was, dead. She laid motionless in the same black dress.
Kristn was a background piano player at the Deli city’s concert hall. He has been working for four years now. He had been the piano player for every Tchaikovsky concert. After his music course at college, Kristn signed up for this job, partly because he liked his music and partly because it afforded him that small studio apartment next to the city metro. He could go anywhere he would like to at very little cost. Also since most concert gigs were in the evening, he always had time to do other chores and gigs.
Last night, he was playing for that 12 year old Violin prodigy’s Mozart 39. Last night, he was also in love. Since the past few months, the feeling kept fading in and out. Specifically fading in every time Vadin walked in and fading out as time passed by. Vadin was the new recruit at the hall, she was the storekeeper and worked every Tuesday and Friday. She attended her music school on the remaining days. Vadin might have been Kristn’s 3 year junior at the school. She was learning the flute and had the air around her.
In Kristn’s life, she came as a respite from the monotony of life. He seldom found any life in all the pieces he played. That lively feeling that ever pervaded in his late teens at music school is now lost. The pieces repeated and the job lost its sheen. Life was otherwise mundane. Vadin on the other hand had been bustling with energy. Young energy. She’d always volunteer for all tasks beyond the storekeeper job. He only noticed her from a distance. He never mustered the courage to walk up to her and talk to her.
Maybe, he never felt the need to either. He wasn’t keen on establishing a friendship or relationship of any kind. But he adored her. Until last night, she was just a graffiti flower to him. Colourful and lively, though near, too far to interact with. And now, she’s gone. Consumed. Consumed by the darkness of the world. She consumed the pills. She took 30 pills, 3 strips of acedifenac, equivalent of drinking 60 cups of coffee minus the water. Bad death for an innocent soul. At least, that’s what Kristn felt. Kristn thought.
For Vadin though, it was a completely different story. Her parents were musicians. She was in music school by consequence, not by choice. Though she liked the flute, she never wanted it to be her career. Indeed, she wouldn’t have picked up the music school if it wasn’t zero tuition fees for her just because her mother was alumni of the college. She wanted to use music to make some pennies that she can spend on learning economics and finance. Those were her choices. But, finances of her father couldn’t buy her that dream.
She took up the job at concert hall recently, to save for her dream degree. She had been a great worker, dedicated employee and the ideal student all her life. She knew she drew Kristn’s attention at the concert hall. No one knew anything about her suicide. Not her parents, not her friends. She was a happy-go-lucky girl as far as everyone knew. And then she died, 30 pills in. While the why of death cleared, the how of such a decision remained undisclosed. As I woke up of my sleep wetting the pillow, the causations for such an attempt couldn’t be traced back for the dream’s portal is closed.
Regards.