The Day The Music Died
I was young and reckless and selfish. He was mysterious, dangerous, and sinister. I stood bravely before him, ready to seal my fate.
“What do you wish?”
“I need to find my sister.”
“Ah, yes. Separated at birth. Birth parents dead. You were raised in an orphanage, no? But your sister.. she was found and raised by a prince, heir to a throne.”
“Indeed. She is to wed in three days time. The Prince is to take the throne as King, and all will be happily ever after.”
“She’ll be pleased.”
“Hm. I can send you to her, however, there is a price.”
“I have money.”
“You have music!”
“Your flute and your voice. Money is not valuable enough.”
“Take my flute.”
“No, I want your music.”
“How will I speak? How will I earn my living?”
“Your sister, the answers to your questions, or your music.”
It seemed a silly trade. Why did he want my voice? How would he take it? “Deal.” Then I could not speak again. I could not play any instrument. The notes forever gone, dancing before my eyes, meaningless.