Elena's P.O.V.
After I had tightened my sky blue hood around my shoulders, I continued my journey through the village. I had almost forgotten how fun it was to play soccer.
It felt like it had been a forever since I last touched a soccer ball.
My head turned around in every direction and corner of the busy street, my eyes wanting to capture as many details of the village as possible.
I was still amazed by how big and lively everything was. Even my neighborhood has never been this chaotic, and there is a college guy - named Carl - living next to me. He was the one who sent me a drawing of flowers when I was in the hospital since he can't afford real ones.
Carl literally hosts a party every week, something I don't really mind since we get along and all. However, I can't say the same thing with the other neighbors who hate his guts. . .
An abundance of noises drowned my ears, especially the shouting from the salespeople who tried to catch everyone's attention. Due to them distracting me, I almost didn't jump out of the way of some running kids.
That was a close one, I tried to avoid standing in the way of the other villagers, but it's easier said than done.
This is why I wish I could fly, because only then would I know where the heck I am and get a better sight of my surroundings.
Wait a minute. . . Seconds passed slowly as the raindrops of realization turned into a heavy storm. Then, the tsunami finally hit me.
Where am I?
My head turned around like an owl, searching for a way out of this full-packed sea of people and animals. However, every inch was occupied by someone or something, which left no escape route.
"Oh, mierda."
To not feed the panic, I planted my feet on the ground and let my eyes wander for an exit. A cold, collected mind was needed If was going to make it out.
Suddenly, a carriage was lifted and taken away, barely exposing a narrow and dark alley with no one swarming around it.
Hallelujah! I cheered and speed-walked to the shadowed alley.
"Thank God," I mumbled when I reached the soulless corridor, pressing my back against the cold, concentrated wall.
I need to get home. Who knows how long I have been here?
If I didn't contact Hazel before the night hits the day, then I could just wave goodbye to my freedom and life.
Meanwhile, my mind was dwelling on whether I should ask for directions or not, my eyes began to travel down the dark alley.
I threw another look around me, bewildered over the lack of people.
Was it a dead-end? Or maybe it's the home of the Mafia? Wait, did these gangs even exist at this time?
As my list of query grew longer by each thought, I found myself walking down the alley to grab the chance of finding an answer rather than chewing on hypotheses.
I know what you're thinking: 'Have you never seen a horror movie?'
My only defense to that question is that my curious mind always gets the best of me. If I don't figure something out, I will become restless for an entirety.
Perhaps the saying 'the curiosity killed the cat' is spot on, however, in my case, it should've been 'the stupidity killed the cat'.
It wasn't before I found myself too deep in the ally that an uncomfortable feeling began to thrive. However, I couldn't find myself to stop just yet. A bit further wouldn't harm, right?
Finally, I turned the last corner.
"Whoa," I breathed out in awe, looking at the huge and red building. The iconic logo of the comedy and tragedy masks were hanging from the structure, giving an effect of beauty.
I knew right away that this broken structure, looking older than anything I've ever seen, was an abandoned theater.
My mind told me to get out of here before I get stuck here as a football coach, but I was too curious to ignore the majestic theater.
It can't be that bad of an idea, can it? It's not like I'm going to see a serial killer and his or her victims.
Sometimes, I wonder why I even let my mind wander like that. It's not good for me nor my health.
Sucking a sharp breath, I forced my feet to walk towards the entrance of the abandoned building, ignoring my brain's protests.
If I was in a horror movie, I would most likely be dead before the film could even start.
The only sounds I could hear were the echoes of my footsteps and water dripping into puddles. My eyes were trying their best to see through the darkness, but it was difficult, especially when the only source of light was poor sunbeams sticking out from the holes in the ceiling.
It was sad to think that someone would leave this huge masterpiece behind, but I guess there must have been a reason behind it or else they are blinder than a man without eyes.
I opened another creaking, wooden door, which I assumed would be empty like the others. However, the moment I looked inside it, my feet forgot how to walk as my eyes could not look away from the beautiful sight.
It was a breathtaking appearance of a stage that almost occupied the entire space in the room. The sunbeams shined through the place, giving it a gloomy, yet, an elegant effect.
Rows of rows of red seats covered the ground, both on the main floor and on the balcony seats. I could only admire the view as I was too dumbstruck to move.
Damn, I wish my phone wasn't a rock now.
Slowly, I passed by the red seats and walked to the stage. Just as I thought that I had revealed all the treasures hiding in the theater, my eyes caught the glimpse of the biggest jewel - no, the most beautiful diamond in the entire world.
A night-black grand piano.
My breath was punched out of my lungs as I faced the magnificent instrument, looking at it with pure admiration. "Wow," I mumbled dumbfounded, slowly touching it and letting the coldness run through my fingertips.
Who in their right mind has a soul to leave such a stunning beauty behind?
If I could, I would've dragged this instrument all the way to the woods and to my house. It was tempting, but then common sense hit me like a stone thrown on my head.
Stupid common sense.
"I wonder if it works," I mumbled quietly, slowly sitting down on a poor, wooden stool and playing a simple C-chord.
I almost shivered because of the melodic and angelic sound this piano sang. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life.
After the sound died, I placed my hands on the white tangents, but due to my stupid arm that was broken, I knew right away that I had to choose a song that contained fewer movements.
At least I didn't break any fingers, I comforted myself while digging into my brain for something easy to play. Maybe I'll just go for Für Elise- oh, wait, I got one!
And then I let my fingers dance across the keys and tangents, creating a melody that filtered the air from all evil as the world around me began to disappear. It was just me and the piano composing music, nothing more and nothing less.
My choice of song may sound a bit old (or even a cliché), but who said that songs have expiration dates? And either way, Someone like you by Adele is a classic. Not only do I love the song and artist, but the melody itself is actually easy to play.
Just as I was nearing the end of the intro, a faint feeling of a pair of eyes watching began to itch my back, but it soon faded away with the world when the first verse was evoked in the synergy.
"I heard that you're settled down
That you found a girl and you're married now
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you
Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light."
The melody from the beautiful piano made up for my sore voice that dragged the song down.
"I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over."
Before I came to the best part of the song, I pressed the piano keys hard, making it have that little effect - the dynamics response.
You pianists know what I'm talking about.
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don't forget me, I beg
I'll remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead."
I continued to sing loud and clear with a hint of the flu, listening to the melody gleaming from the magnificent instrument.
"You know how the time flies
Only yesterday was the time of our lives
We were born and raised
In a summer haze
Bound by the surprise of our glory days
I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.
I'd hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over."
At this moment, nothing seemed to matter. I didn't care if I got stuck here - even though I prefer not to, - because all that mattered was here and now.
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don't forget me, I beg
I'll remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.
Nothing compares
No worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes
They are memories made.
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?"
No worries or cares, the little part of the verse echoed like a tormenting wound; it's weak, but it's still there.
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you
Don't forget me, I beg
I'll remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead.
Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
Don't forget me, I beg
I'll remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead."
I let the ending of the melody live longer than what it's supposed to, however, I couldn't go on forever and eventually had to end it like all great songs do.
My eyes shut in the pleasure of the final tune, and I smiled for myself for the result I had presented and for the instrument's magical abilities.
But the gleam's life took an abrupt turn when the sound of applaud echoed through the room, something that made me jump from the stool and to the skies.
Oh, my Santa. . . I'm going to die, aren't I?
Before I could make a run for it, a deep, old voice filled the air, startling me even more as I froze in my steps.
"That, my child, was absolutely exquisite." An elderly man stepped out of the shadows, his face gleaming like his shining, silver hair.
Instantly my eyes locked with his grey ones. The color of his orbs was as grey as the ash from a dying fire, but the warm smile on his face made it clear that the flame was far from lifeless.
When I didn't reply, he pulled his round glasses up to his nose. "I am sorry for eavesdropping on you, but it is hard to not listen to a beautiful song in this empty theater." He straightened his ankle long, brown tunic and the leather belt tied around his waist.
If I didn't know better, I would say that he's a monk.
It took me a couple of seconds to find my voice. "Thank you," I spoke, distancing myself from the instrument. "And I'm sorry for playing on your piano, which I assume is yours, considering that you're, you know, the only person here."
And yet again have I proved the world how much of a dimwit I am.
His face only held smiles. "Do not apologize for creating a beautiful song, dear. I would be more than happy to hear it again," he talked with warm words while making his way towards the instrument.
"Do you play the piano too?" I asked the stupidest question in the time-traveling history ever.
No, he just keeps a piano in a theater for fun - why else would he have it here, you birdbrain? I scolded myself.
It was only when the monk began to play the piano that I stopped cursing myself out. The sonata coming from the instrument was beyond beautiful, and it put me in a trance.
How is he even doing that? Even my piano teacher can't play that well, and she has been playing in orchestras for years.
"Yes, but not as much as I used to." I almost didn't catch what he said due to my ears being too busy listening to his talent.
How in the name of Claus did he do that? I swear that was more magical than the whole time traveling thing.
It wasn't before he stopped playing that I snapped out of the hypnosis he had put me in, and all I could do in the first, fresh seconds was to watch the old man with my mouth agape.
"That was amazing!" I exclaimed loudly, my words reflecting around the room. "How did you even do that? Are you, like, the artistic side of Jesus?"
Of all the things I could've said to a monk, I just had to settle down for a religious joke.
Well, at least I got a taste of the beautiful music before I get kicked out of here.
But to my surprise, he laughed with a genuine, warm gleam - something that made me a bit relieved since I didn't want to abandon an already abandoned theater.
Does that even make sense?
"No, my dear, I am not the artistic side of Jesus," he shook his head in a quiet laugh. "I look at myself as a man who has been blessed by God and his miracles," he looked up at the ceiling with closed eyes.
I followed his actions but was met by the holed roof. After not understanding what he was doing, I looked back to find him smiling for himself.
"Well, that must be. . . nice?" I'm not the spiritual type of person as you can see. "Did you have to pay God for the talent or something?"
The old man laughed again at my religion-related jokes, which was a relief because I can't stop them.
"You are not really religious, are you?"
Damn, what gave me away?
I shook my head, making my hair fly between my shoulders. "Nah, not really."
Is this even something you should say in front of a monk? But whether it was a wise choice or not, it didn't matter because he responded with a warm chuckle in the end.
"Now tell me, child," he began to play another melody, looking between the piano and me. "What is a young girl like you doing in a place like this? Do you not prefer to be out in the sun and meet people?"
I guess people in this time have never heard the term 'introverts'.
"Well. . ." I dragged the 'E'. "Not really, no. I only socialize when I have to." He found my answer amusing as he quietly laughed. "What about you? What's a monk like you doing in a place like this?"
He gave me a sad smile, "This is my home."
Wow, I didn't know I was dealing with a homeless monk.
"Outside of the monastery, of course."
Never mind.
"I'm Elena, by the way," I introduced myself and looked into his soft, colorless orbs.
He was probably the friendliest monk I've ever met, but then again, he is the only monk I have met.
"Francis O'Donner," he replied and ended the life of the melody, glancing at me with a warm smile. "But you can just call me Francis or Frans, whichever you prefer the most."
I already like this guy.
He averted his attention towards the piano, closing his eyes before I had the chance to ask him what he was doing. However, it was all disclosed as he played Adele's song that I had just performed a minute ago.
The only difference: he played it so much better.
"Wait, you can recreate a song by only listening to it once?" To say that I was amazed was an understatement, heck, I could only stare at him and his dancing fingers playing the melody with ease.
Do you know how long it took me to get that right?
Francis halted the music and furrowed his eyebrows when he caught the sight of my bandage-covered arm. "Oh, dear," he looked up to meet my apple-colored orbs. "What happened to your arm, darling?"
I shrugged my shoulders, "It's a. . . a long story."
Which is filled with so much clumsiness and stupidity that it could curse you too if you listen to the entire thing.
He shook his head with a puzzled smile on his face, "I have met many peculiar people in my life, but you, my dear, you are one of a kind."
A look of uncertainty crossed my face. "How so?"
He chuckled, almost like the answer was obvious, which it actually was since I traveled through time and all.
"You are a child of music; playing both the roles as the melody and the lyrics." He gave me a knowing look with his glasses placed on the bridge of his nose. "So, tell me, Elena," he locked his eyes with mine. "Where does this young lady like you come from?"
Oh, no, not this again.
I probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but I was quick to recover from it when the conversation with Aria surfaced.
"Well, you know. . ." I cleared my throat, coughing into my fist. "I'm from another village, about ten mil- a hundred miles away," I answered too quickly with words colliding with each other. "You've probably never heard of it, because, you know, it's so. . . far away and all."
Why couldn't I have been a child of lies instead?
Francis gave me a long look, and I could only hope that he would bite on my poor lie as I began to fiddle with my hood.
It felt like a forever when he spoke again. "You certainly need to practice your lying skills."
Once again, the monk took me by surprise - he would be a great party planner, that's for sure.
Hold on, did a monk tell me to learn how to lie better? Wow, now I've heard that too.
I shook my head, knowing it was pointless to argue. "Yeah, I've heard that a couple of times."
Something tells me that Hazel's comments weren't just meant as insults.
Francis suddenly turned his entire body towards me, fixating all of his attention. "So, where are you really from?" He asked again, tramping on his words.
Well, I hope the crazy-house is cozy and warm.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I answered with a small shake of my head, walking away from him to get a better view of the room as I imagined it full of life.
My back was facing Francis when he began to play Adele's song again, the beautiful music was more than enough for me to close my eyes in pleasure as my ears were my sight now.
"Are you sure about that?" The old man asked with a calm, yet, acute tone. "Because I know you traveled through time, dear Elena."
My body froze, yet, my reflexes acted like I was on the field; awake and ready to take down my opponent. "What did you say?" My words were demanding, but my voice didn't hold the same strength.
I wasn't certain whether I heard him right or not, but the way the monk was chewing on a smile, I knew he had some valuable information.
Fear and confusion spun me around, making everything around me a blur. He couldn't know, could he? Unless he traveled through time too and got stuck here. What if I'm stuck here?
"I knew you were from another time the moment I heard you play." He talked in a soft tone, picking his words with care. "And not to mention, there is almost no one at your age that shows this much of an interest in music, especially in singing."
I didn't know if I should be more shocked about him knowing that I time traveled or the fact that teenagers were no fans of music as most of them are in my time.
That's a crime in itself.
"How can they not like-" I stopped myself from stepping out of the main problem. "I mean, what do you know about time travel? Did you travel through time, too? If so, how is it possible? Are there others who-"
Francis held up his hand, stopping my ramble of questions that were pouring out of my mouth like a waterfall.
"Unfortunately, I do not know much about time traveling myself." I waited for him to continue, but the pause only grew longer and longer as he only looked at me with his silver orbs, not building anything further to his poor sentence.
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "But how could you know that I traveled through time? I mean, no one else suspected it. How could anyone know that I'm from another century by only listening to one song?" I tried to corner him, but he didn't show any emotion of nervousness. "So, how could you possibly know?" I was desperate for answers now, my query growing longer and wider.
The old man sighed, looking away from me and settled his attention on the ceiling with his hands behind his back. "As you can see, this theater has been abandoned for a very long time."
What has that to do with anything? I wanted to ask but kept my mouth shut and nodded to his words - even if he couldn't see me.
"Believe it or not, but I did work here as one of the greatest pianists in the village."
Oh, don't worry, Francis, I believe you more than you believe in Jesus.
"If you think that this old, cranky place is beautiful now," he gave a humorless laugh, his attention locked on the ground with a faint memory painted in his sight. "You should have seen it when it was full of life and music."
I could only imagine it; people dancing, singing, acting and filling this emptiness with life and joy.
"But then. . ." He sighed before continuing. "Another theater was opened down the city. People would rather go there - newly built and easy to get to - than this old thing that makes creaky sounds whenever you open a door.
"So, when people stopped coming here, the theater went bankrupt and had to shut down. Everyone lost their jobs - including me." I listened carefully to every word he filled my ears. "Most of them went to work in the new theater, abandoning and forgetting about this one like it never existed."
I pitied both him and the employees, feeling bad that they had to shut down this magical place - and that, my friend, is truly a big shame.
"That's sad," I poorly commented, catching the monk's small, sad smile.
"Indeed it is," he looked towards the sea of seats with his head held high, almost watching a memory playing in front of his eyes before he returned to the piano.
"Not to be rude or anything, Francis," I followed him. "But what has that to do with you knowing that I traveled through time?"
Seriously, if I don't get any answers now, I will become nutter than nuts.
"I am coming to the point, dear." He replied, offering me a smile as he began to play another, slow melody. "Like you said, it was sad that the theater had come to its closure. And to speak the truth, it felt like I lost a big part of myself - especially when music and theater have always been a huge part of my everyday life. Whenever I felt down, the only thing that could brighten my day was to know that this place existed."
Have you ever watched an old man walk into a bus and sit alone? And how sad it is to see him sitting all by himself? Well, think about that, only ten times worse. Seriously, I was this close to hug him.
"So, as religious as I am, I prayed to God." He stopped and looked at me for a second. "I prayed every day for this theater and that it would not stay like this; abandoned and empty."
Although I'm not religious, I could understand his prayers - heck, if I had been in his shoes, I would've prayed to goddamn Buddha and all the Gods and Goddesses in Hinduism.
"Every day that went by, I hoped that God would hear my prayers and do something about it." A wide smile stretched across his old features, replacing the sad wrinkles with gleaming traces. "And one day, he did."
"Wait, what?" It was becoming too much now, the cup of confusion had been spilled over the table. "Did God just answer you by a text message written 'seen' on it, or what?"
Is this how the Man Upstairs contact priests and prophets nowadays?
A puzzled look displayed on his face. "Text message?" Before I could explain, he shook his head and continued. "No, but it was a message, maybe not that kind you are talking about, but it was a message delivered from heaven."
At least I'm not the crazy one anymore.
"What?" I blinked repeatedly, not sure if I heard him correctly.
I think he lost it.
Francis only chuckled upon seeing my expression. "Believe it or not, but it is true," he said without stopping the melodic tune. "I received the message through a dream."
I arched an eyebrow at his words, holding back another comment about God's technical abilities.
"What did it say?" I asked instead, still confused.
The grey-haired man stopped playing the piano, his lips curling up into a faint smile. "That someone would fill this emptiness-" He gestured his hands around the room. "-And revive death until the sun is warm again, filling our ears with music we've never heard before."
I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at the pianist in front of me.
This makes no sense, I wanted to say, finding it extremely hard to believe the words walking out of his lips.
"That doesn't really explain how you knew that I traveled through time." I looked at him with confusion entwined in my voice. "Did God just say: 'Oh, and before I forget, this weirdo I'm sending to you have traveled through time, so think of something without freaking her completely out. Peace out, bro'?" I hit my chest twice on the last part, using a deep voice to mimic how I think God sounds like.
Again, why am I doing this in front of a religious monk?
Francis only looked at me with an amused smile, almost like he wanted to laugh but couldn't due to his religion.
"Well, not exactly like that, but close enough." He shook his head. "But my point, darling, is that I received a message about a soul that would come and that this someone would travel far, far away from everything. Through time and through the impossibilities."
I pointed a finger at myself. "You mean me?"
"No, I am talking about the other person who traveled through time."
Who knew that a monk could be sarcastic?
I rubbed my head that was fighting a war with itself, sighing out of frustration and pain as I could not grab onto the explanation due to the loose ends and holes in it.
"I think my brain exploded," I muttered, massaging my temples.
"Oh, dear, sit down, child," Francis guided me to the wooden stool before I could hug the ground again. "I know it is a lot to take in, and I know that you are finding it difficult to believe it - trust me, I had a hard time sleeping the next nights after my dream."
Not only did a headache hit the back of my skull, but the train of query became longer than I could ever imagine.
"I think you should go home and rest. Perhaps sleep on it." The old monk spoke softly, making me look up at him and nod in agreement.
He was right, I should probably relax and try to sleep, but I doubt that I would get any wink of sleep with everything that has happened today.
"Let me help you, deary, you do not look well." He continued as a heavy sigh left my dry lips.
Not only did my brain explode, but this also strengthens my theory that God loves to annoy me.
One day, Man Upstairs, I shall push you down from that cloud of yours, and then we'll see how much you'll laugh.