She returned.

It was the 7^th of August, one fine summer day, when she finally returned after a long journey. It was a long journey of conquering the world, of finding what she truly is, of finding where she belongs and meant to be, of finding her voice. The mute girl, they said she was. A girl who lost her voice.

Six years of being away and nothing has changed. While she was away, the world seemed to stop spinning, as the clock came to rest long ago. Four o’clock in the evening and the sky was a mixture of orange and pink. The sun, sets between the horizon, and the yellowish evening sun shone upon the room. One old grand piano was placed in the midst of the emptiness, long untouched, covered in dust. Her long slender finger traced the outline of it, blowing off the dust. Her fingers were tapping on each key, pressing random notes. It was the same, the same echoed, the same smoothness, the same heaviness, but a different feels.

The same creamy white curtains pushed off the yellowish evening sun from coming in. The old grand piano looked very nostalgic beneath the yellowish evening sunlight. It had been a long time since she touched one of them. Six years of being away, six years of leaving, six years of long journey…

Six years… six years… six years ago… the day she found and lost her comfort.

***

7^th August 2008

The sky was the same kind of how it is today, a mixture of orange and pink. The sky was ordinary, as how it would be on every other day, on every summer evening. Her fingers were dancing on top of the piano keys, dancing so swiftly. The music echoed throughout the room, ringing through the floors, and flow so smoothly. A lonely back was shown sitting alone inside the big music room, enjoying the silence. Silence was a good friend; a good friend of comforts. The mute girl, they said she was.

When she was eight, she lost her voice as she lost all her comfort. She was afraid to speak, she feared voices, and she was soon mute. Half of those who did not even know the complete story, told others she was mentally disordered. She couldn’t speak or even communicate. She hardly ever interacts with others. Her struggles of learning the sign language came to waste. She lived in a cage, unwilling to go out and see the wonders. The mute girl, they said she was. The girl who lost her voice the day she lost her comfort. A loner, she was.

Dancing so swiftly on the piano, her fingers pressed different key as if it was a part of her. Her music was her soul. Her last dripped of comfort was music. The echoing sound of the piano, how soothing and soft it was, became her comfort. A lonely back that would show up every evening, enjoying the smoothness of it, as the sun set to the darkness. The twilight and piano was her comfort. The last drip of comfort in her silence.

The classics, Beethoven, she only played. Only a few pieces of his works, some of the most romantic, that she would play again and again to no end, each evening. The pieces her mother would play for her when she was young. Mozart or other musical geniuses, songs splendid enough that she never played. On a sad day, she would play the happiest song. On a wonderful day, she would play the saddest one. The mute girl was weird, they said she was.

But on the 7^th August of six years ago… 7^th August 2008, was remarkable one fine day, when she finally found her voice and comfort. He came to her, like a gush of wind trying to lighten up her burden. He had his toothy grin and contagious laugh, as he took a seat next to her. He clumsily messed up her masterpiece, pressing random keys to create random disturbing tunes. She simply stared at him with an empty look. Still, he smiled and laughed. He was a retarded boy, they said he was.

He played the piano, not as well as she did, but he was a good player. Mozart, he introduced her to, and at times to jazzy and loud songs that she used to hate so much.

“Do you play others?” He asked. There was something in his voice that she loved, something peculiar yet spectacular about it. Yet of course, she was the mute girl. “You only play Beethoven’s. Other songs are good too.” He said and laughed about it.

He was one of the below average guys at school. She was one strange girl at school. She was a mute girl, he was a loud boy. Silence by silence, she got close to him. Loudness by loudness, he got close to her. Different steps, but the same goals.

She liked him, especially his voice. There would always be hint of laughter in his voice, no matter how normal he tried to sound. His hint of laughter at every time, to his often mistimed laughter, she liked them all. His laugh was contagious, a whole-hearted laugh, a true laughter. Perhaps, it was why she loved his laughs so much. His often mistimed laugh, even when she was crying, she liked it. Soon, music was no longer her comfort. He became her comfort. His contagious laugh became her comfort.

And he, too, like her. He liked her silence, the way she like his laughter. People may say her silence was creepy and annoying, yet he found it soothing. For someone so loud, he found the silence so peaceful. For each word he let out without a reply, there was a comfort of having something unanswered. Answer, at times, couldn’t provide the comfort one longed for. Her silence was contagious and comforting.

On every evening, two lonely backs would be seen around the empty room. Day by day, loudness by loudness, silence by silence, it grew less lonely. She was still the mute girl, he was still the loud boy, each a comfort to the other. Lee Ji Eun, for the first time in a long time, found her comfort. He became her breath, her comfort. He lifted a huge burden off her chest. Jang Dongwoo, for the first time, found his solace in silence. And since then, being so contrast felt good.

But both have forgotten how the world, once, took away all their comfort. The world was merciless enough to take it away for another time. Her comfort didn’t stay for long and soon it disappeared to thin air. He was taken away from her. And this was all memories.

The day she lost him was the day she lost all her comfort.

***

A lonely back once again appeared in the empty room, fingers tapping against the key. There was no smoothness or comforts. What was once her comfort became her pain. It wrecked her. The nostalgic feeling that rushed each time she pressed a different key, it kills.

The day she lost him was the day she lost all her comfort.

Author Note

Greetings to all my readers and subbies! I don't think I've greeted you for a while. So, hello! I hope all of you are doing well. Hopefully this chapter is enjoyable to all of you! Have fun reading! And can I, please, have my comments? *puppy eyes*