“ e Forest’s Piano”, Gabriela Roberts ‘23

The Forest's Piano

by Gabriela Roberts she/her, '23

I entered the forest at dusk, right as the last streaks from the sun's disaf pearance were dispersing and fading on the horizon. It would take a while to get the clearing in the trees, but had been doing this, coming here, long enough to know how to time my arrival perfectly. The forest, nature itself, providing peaceful sounds of creatures and lapping water from a ways off of the clearing where I waited. Waited and stared. Stared, my face blank, at the piano standing proud on the grass. I would call it mocking. The way the piano existed. The way it was woven so seamlessly into the Earth and magic surrounding it. A stark contrast to the way I wasn't. In a sick way, it made sense that the piano radiated pride and power. It was born of the Earth, a physical manifestation of something ancient, after all. It had a command over the magic that existed in relation to it. It was in some semblance of control. Sometimes I thought the piano had a mind of its own. I wasn't quite sure why I always returned to the clearing and the piano. Week after week as if my pull to it remained after that tragic night three moons ago. My gratitude for the clearing had been sucked out when the trees and vines and prettily perfect flowers decided to steal my magic from me. To call me undeserving. As if anyone would ever be better. As if calling her better when she had sat next to me while I was stripped of my everything. She came to the clearing shortly after me, bringing a new light source that blended with the moonlight and fireflies' glow. She said nothing as she walked out of the trees, more floating rather than walking, and coming to stand beside me. She waited a moment, staring at the piano and bench covered in moss, vines snaking their way up the ancient wood. She moved forward then, a ghostly arm outstretched, reaching toward keys. The green life on the piano flourished in her presence, in the magic of her being. ''Are you going to stand there and stare, or shall we play something?" I watched for a moment longer, silent jealousy building as the vines and flowers changed positions on the piano's case. They stopped doing that for me when they took my magic. Forcing my body to relax and my lips to quirk upward, I walked to meet her. "Do you know anything by Frederic Chopin?" "The Polish composer." She said, not questioning, without looking away from the plants before her, fingers weaving through their leaves and stems. 'Yes, I know him," a small nod then a sharp turn of her head, violet eyes, like mine used to be, in line with what was now a lifeless gray, "Which piece?" She was perfect, beautiful, powerful. Filled to the brim with magic and overwhelming love for plants. She was everything I used to be. Everything I wished to be once more. We used to be friends. I think she believes we still are. I sat down on her left and instead of answering began playing dark, minor tones. She hummed in recognition and began playing the accompanying duet on the higher range keys. As the nocturne progressed, I became angrier, my keystrokes sharper. My lower half was tense, feet pressing down forcefully into the moss. It wasn't fair that she got to keep her power, that she had so much magic, more than I ever had. Her power was constantly growing and I was stuck in place, drained and empty, left to watch as she surpassed me. The vines onher side of the piano moved in perfect time with the music. She was enthralled in the harmony she was playing and the plants picked up her rhythm through their connection to her. It was infuriating to look forward again and see through my dull, dull eyes that the flora had moved over to the right side of the piano, drawn to her energy. Drawn away from me. We stayed like that, playing piece after piece for hours, time slowing and insignificant, a continuous flow of music. And through it all, the night was lit by a motley of her aura, moonlight and passing fireflies. The plants never stopped moving in unity with her; my side remained still. And it was hours after we first met, my emotions having heightened into something almost uncontrollable, when I realized a simple solution to the annoyance of her existence.