My Sleepless Piano

Nights Alone

The past few nights haven’t exactly been easy for me. First, I have to introduce myself. My name is Jamie, I’m twenty-one next Tuesday and my boyfriend shows no interest in showing up. I have strawberry blonde hair. I’ve grown it out ever since I was little, only cutting off dead ends and growing it longer. My best friend has been with me my entire life it seems, he’s always helping me up when I feel down. His name is Oscar; he’s very quirky but also muscular with brownish red hair. All he does is play video games and sleep; I feel like I’m the reason he’s even still in school.
        I met my boyfriend, Tom, my freshman year of college. He’s a football player, twenty-three years old and still not the captain, even though his father is the coach. I believe the teachers give him slack because of that, but he did try. When I first met him he was known as the class clown, always trying to annoy the teacher and not doing his work. I hoped that if I kept quiet he would leave me alone, but that only caused more trouble. He would call me out more and tease me in the hallways. That all ended by Christmas; I got annoyed by his teasing and bragging so I turn to slap him and his face was so close to mine that we just stood there, my hand hanging in mid-air. It so quiet now, I can tell people are looking at us. It’s just me and him breathing the same air. He has a sad look on his face and I don’t know what to do.
        He made the first move and I turned him down. He kept trying always asking me the same question, “how about a date” I don’t know if I just gave into his persistence or if I really did have feelings for him. We have been dating for almost six months and it was going well. He was so sweet to me, always hugging me from behind, giving me compliments. But now it seems he is growing distant; not answering my calls, texting me as much as he used to. I try to catch him flirting with the freshman but he plays it off as giving them directions. I know he’s lying, I’m not stupid. I just can’t give him up. He does try to do well and he works harder and I tried to break up with him once but he broke down crying in my arms. It’s sad that I didn’t feel anything for him during this. He was using me I knew that but I pitied him. I couldn’t handle my depression If I didn’t have my music.
        Ever since I was a little girl my mother would take me to an old woman’s home, I would call her grandma, or Nina, being so naive. She would teach me to play the piano and every morning I would ask mother if we were going to grandma’s house. She was so kind baking cookies if I play something correctly. When I was nine my parents were in a wreck, my mom died from bleeding to the brain and my dad survived but He couldn’t live without her… he shot himself two weeks later. I had nobody to go to; no aunts or uncles not even cousins or grandparents. The only person I had to look to was Nina; she had adopted me knowing that I had nowhere else to go. Now she’s technically my mother but I still call her my Nina.
        I grew up loving classical music but I still listen to punk rock and pop; I got a scholarship to a school for performing at a local venue. Most of my classes are music related with a few required classes by the state. I’ve always had a passion for the piano but I never would’ve guessed I could become a professional musician. Life was going well for me, I had straight A’s, a boyfriend, and my best friend. I had no reason to complain; but tonight was not like the others. Tom was away for a “game” which was typical even though football season is over, I just couldn’t sleep. I knew he was up to something and I didn’t want to find out any time soon but something was telling me it wasn’t good.
        I lay there in my bed with nothing but my thoughts and I decide that I’m not going to sleep for a while. Knowing that Oscar would be awake, probably playing video games, I call his number.
        He answers after a few rings, “Hello? Don’t you know what time it is?”
        “Of course I know what time it is, why do you think I called you!?”
        “Touché,” is all he says and we laugh, “I mean why are you calling this late?”
        “Well,” I try to remember why I called, “I don’t really know exactly, I guess I just needed to talk to someone.”
        “Well then… let’s talk,” He says in that caring way he’s always done when I’ve needed him.
        We talk for what seems like hours, not about anything in particular, but about everything in general. I tell him of my worries and he just listens always thinking of the right thing to say. It’s always been like this, since the moment I met him he’s just listened and was a friend to me. I fell asleep with nothing but the phone in my hand and the sound of his voice.