by Jillian Marie

---

 
It was late. Far too late to be walking home, but that’s what I was doing. I’d spent the afternoon and evening in rehearsals for my next concert appearances and it was safe to say I was exhausted.

It had been my first time working with the Civic Orchestra and luckily I was going to be playing very familiar works…the Mozart and Beethoven concerti. We had managed a full run-through of the entire program and things went very smoothly, if I do say so myself. It probably didn’t hurt that Dr. Parkinson was quite familiar with my take on the Beethoven himself, given that he’d just recently conducted it with me at the conservatory.

The afternoon rehearsal with the school orchestra wasn’t quite as smooth, however. We were working on the Prokofiev and although I knew it quite well and had a clear idea of what I wanted to do with it, much of the ensemble was still struggling with it. I daresay Dr. Parkinson was at least as frustrated as I was by the end of the rehearsal, but fortunately no tempers flared.

So as I walked in the darkness my mind sped away in a million directions all at once, rehashing the goings on…both good and bad…of the past week. At one point the only thing that kept me from giving in to utter exhaustion was the fact that I was freezing. I suppose that’s what comes of not taking the time to acquire a proper winter coat.

I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to see the lobby of my apartment building as I was at that moment. I stepped in the door and basked in the warmth as I made my way toward the elevator. By the time I’d reached my floor, I’d even managed to thaw a bit.

When I opened the door to my place, the chill that I’d just now rid myself of rushed back and I shivered all the way down to the bone. I never pretended to be a good housekeeper, but the sight that greeted me was beyond anything I could have even imagined.

Books and clothes were thrown everywhere, pillows and cushions had been slashed, and even my keyboard had been smashed by a bowling ball I didn’t even know I had.

As I was reaching for the phone to call the campus police I spied a note that read, ‘This isn’t over, Kayla.’ That chill I had mentioned went through the bone and was scratching at my soul.

I called the police and once I knew they were on their way I called Sarah. The phone rang several times before someone finally answered.

“Hello?” came a voice I thought belonged to Jen, Sarah’s roommate.

I took a stab and said, “Jen? Is Sarah around? It’s Kyle.”

“Yeah, hang on.” She took the handset away from her face and started walking toward Sarah’s room.

After a bit of muffled noises Sarah spoke, “Kyle? What’s wrong?”

“He did it again, only this time he trashed the apartment. The police are on the way but I wanted to let you know.”

In a very forceful voice she said, “Get a bag packed with stuff to get you by for a few days. I’ll be there in a few minutes to pick you up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t stay there while that pervert is running wild. Come stay with us for a few days, until they can catch the guy, okay?”

Reluctantly I agreed to go with her, so until the police showed up I was gathering clothes and necessities, and shoving them into a bag. The cops took a statement as well as a few pictures of the vandalism, then left me to my own thoughts and fears.

A few minutes later Sarah came running in all out of breath. Once she had her breathing back under control she asked, “Ready?”

I lifted my overstuffed bag and replied, “I suppose so.”

“Hey, it’s only temporary.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any more palatable.” She led me out the door, stopping so I could lock up…not that that had been doing me much good.

I followed her down through the lobby and out to her waiting car, with Jen behind the wheel. As I started to get in Jen said, “Hey, roomie.” Looking at her a bit strangely I climbed into the back seat and before the doors were even closed, we were under way.

After giving me a few moments to collect my thoughts, the questioning began. Sarah was first, “What can be done about this guy?”

“I don’t know, to tell you the truth. The police don’t seem able to stop him, that’s for sure.”

“So tell me what the note said this time?”

“This isn’t over, Kayla,” I uttered, feeling nausea grip me as I said the words.

Jen, who up to that point had been silent since I got in the car asked, “You know, there are other ways to deal with things.”

Sarah quickly jumped in, “No! Nothing good ever comes of that!”

Confused I asked, “What?”

Sarah answered before Jen had a chance, “Nothing. Forget all about it.”

“All about what?”

“Just forget it.”

Once in the house Jen said, “It’s not much, but the couch is yours as long as you need it.” She then gave me a hug and retired to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Sarah and I sat on the couch, at which point I asked, “So what was that all about in the car?”

She sighed before responding, “Jill was beaten pretty severely once and Jen took it upon herself to exact revenge on the guys who did it.”

“How so?”

“She had some friends do to the culprits exactly what they’d done to my Jill.”

I didn’t have to think about it too long before I said, “Even if that were an option, I couldn’t do that.”

“I know. That’s why I cut her off before she brought it up.”

“Fair enough,” I responded. After a moment or two of silence I asked, “So Jen is…?”

“Jill’s sister. This was their house, and after Jill died Jen gave me Jill’s half. She’s closer to me than my real family ever thought about being.”

I could see this line of questioning was really bothering her, as she was beginning to tear up. Hoping it would help her avoid losing it completely, I quickly changed subjects. “What do you think is going to happen with Cindy?”

She looked at me thoughtfully and replied, “I don’t know. The only one who knows for sure is Cindy herself and I’m doubtful that even she knows what she’s going to do. That’s not exactly the answer you were looking for, is it?”

“No, but I didn’t expect anything else. I know she’s felt kind of ignored a lot of the time and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been extremely focused on my playing. I know that. I don’t know if she understands just how important all this is to me. Maybe she doesn’t even care?”

“Trust me when I say she knows and cares. It’s just been hard for her to adjust. You must admit that you’ve been pretty single minded. Try to put yourself in her shoes for a minute.”

I thought about it for a bit before responding, “I get it. I really do, but I feel like the only solutions available to me involve choosing one or the other.”

“Maybe…” she started before stopping mid-sentence.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do was be a concert pianist, for as long as I can remember. Now here I am on the verge of realizing that dream. I need this like I need air to breathe. Does that make sense?”

Sarah responded, “Believe me, I understand exactly what you are saying. The problem is in trying to find a balance so you can still have time for her, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want her in my life. I love her. I just don’t know if I can change the way I’m doing things. I’m not sure I would want to change it.”

“Even if that meant ending your relationship with Cindy?”

I thought about that for a second before I said, “Even if.”

“Well then, I guess the only thing you can do is wait and see if she decides you’re important enough to her to put up with not being the center of your world.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

“I know, but that’s what it boils down to really.”

A rather uncomfortable silence settled over us before in an attempt to lighten the mood I said, “You know, I didn’t like you much when we first met.”

“I kind of suspected that. I can’t tell you how glad I am we got past that.”

“Now, I’d have to say you’re my best friend. How weird is that?”

“Not weird at all. A bit unusual maybe, but…”

I cut her off, “But certainly not the weirdest thing going on in my life. That’s for sure,” I began to chuckle, quickly joined by Sarah.

I forced a yawn and said, “Wow! Would you look at the time? Maybe we should try to get some sleep?”

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ll just say goodnight then,” and with that Sarah got up and went to her room, leaving me to my thoughts. Without even undressing, I laid down on the couch and much to my surprise was out.

The next couple of days were pretty uneventful. I went to classes, had a lesson with Dr. Caroll, rehearsed with the orchestra, and slept on Sarah’s couch. It felt nice to not have so much turmoil in my life, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think it was just the calm before the storm.

On the third day of my ‘exile’ I decided to stop by the apartment to check on things and pick up some books and extra clothes. I knew something was wrong when I went to unlock the door and found it was already unlocked. I cautiously opened it and walked in to find that nothing major had changed from the previously ransacked condition.

Once I had checked the closets and knew that Cindy had been there to get more of her things I felt myself relax, despite the wave of sadness that flowed over me. Just as I decided to grab what I needed and go, my peace of mind was shattered by a voice saying, “So nice of you to join me.” The voice paused before adding, “Kayla.”

All the blood drained from my body at the sound of his voice. I wanted to run, to hide, but felt as if my feet were permanently attached to the floor. When I finally found my voice I stupidly asked, “What do you want?”

My question prompted a cackle that could only be described as insane. When his laughter subsided, Dr. Wyler said, “Don’t worry Kayla, your virtue’s safe with me…for now.”

I still wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from until he grabbed me from behind and forced me into a kitchen chair, where he proceeded to zip tie my hands and feet together so I couldn’t get away. He then pushed me into a chair that he had apparently moved into place before I knew what was happening.

When finally he came around in front of me, the man I saw bore little resemblance to the conductor I had so admired when I first met him. His hair was wild, he was unshaven, and worst of all his eyes shone pure evil. He was playing with a rather large knife, which he used to keep me from saying anything until he wanted me to speak by pushing the point up from under my chin just hard enough for me to feel it without drawing blood.

The ice in his voice when he spoke freaked me out as much as what he said next. “I thought we had something special, you and I. Then you go and make that recording and turn me in.” The point of the knife dug in just a tiny bit more until I thought it might have actually drawn blood.

“You realize you’ve destroyed my life. Now, how could you possibly make something like that up to me, Kayla?” he withdrew the knife and I felt a trickle of blood go down my neck.

In a shaky voice that betrayed my fear I asked, “What do you want me to do then?”

He once again laughed that evil cackle and looked me in the eye as if he were searching for my soul. He then said, “I want to destroy your life. Quid pro quo, as it were.” Again, the laugh sent shivers down my spine all the way to my toes.

He walked away for a moment leaving me with my thoughts before saying, “Wouldn’t want anyone just walking in while we’re having our chat, would we?”

He pulled me to my feet and made me hop into the living room, where he plopped me down on the sofa before seating himself on the other end. “It’s true that you had great potential as a pianist. But potential isn’t enough, Kayla. I could have helped your career a great deal, if only you’d played ball with me.”

I felt the urge to throw up, but managed this time to control it. Once the wave of nausea had passed I asked, “So you would expect me to submit to your personal desires in exchange for a little assistance in starting my career? That’s the very definition of sexual harassment.”

“Such an ugly term.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“Mentoring a young artist,” he said as what he may have thought passed for an angelic look crossed his face.

Unable to take it any longer, I blurted out, “That’s sick.”

The previous demonic visage once again descended over the doctor as he played with the knife in front of his face, turning it back and forth to allow the light to glint off the blade. He smiled and I felt my stomach drop.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Upon hearing it Dr. Wyler hissed, “Be quiet. Were you expecting anyone?”

Probably louder than I should have, I replied, “No. Nobody.” He gave me a small cut on the arm closest to him as punishment for being too loud.

Another knock at the door, followed by the sound of keys jingling and the door starting to open only to be stopped by the chain lock. A moment later there was a crashing sound as the door jam gave way and door banged open.

Just then Dr. Wyler lashed out with his knife and I felt something like a punch in my stomach. There was a mad rush of activity all around me with yelling from every direction before I passed out…
 
 
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Piano Concerto No.12 in A Major, kv.414
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/mozart-kv414-1-bko...

Ludwig von Beethoven, Concerto No.4 in G Major, Opus 58
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/beethoven-58-1-hu.mp3
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/beethoven-58-2-3-h...

Sergei Prokofiev, Piano Concerto No.1, Opus 10
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/prokofiev-10-1-arm...
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/prokofiev-10-2-arm...
http://server3.pianosociety.com/protected/prokofiev-10-3-arm...

Notes:

Readers, Please Remember to Leave a Comment

Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.

---

 
To Be Continued...