The Sound of Philly Read online

looked at the ground, and saw the lines on the track, which kind of made her feel like she was running on a music sheet that went round and round. As she now ran, she saw notes appear on the lines, and she saw the notes appear that would represent music for her as how she felt right now. As she ran, she ran faster and faster, to increase how fast the notes went by, hearing the music in her mind, feeling like it needed to go faster than she could run.

  She ran eight laps while hearing the music, and seeing the notes on the ground as she ran. The teacher called everyone in, and it took a bit for Philly to realize it was time to go. When she did realize, and when she finally stopped, she felt sick to her stomach. She had over exerted herself, and she now felt the toll it took on her body. She found a nearby trashcan and threw up in it. Some of the students reacted, some disgusted, while others laughed. After she finished, two of them came over to ask if she was okay.

  “Yeah. I'm... I'm fine.” She tried to assure them, as she held her stomach, and held her head a bit forward as she walked with the rest of the class back inside to go change back into their school clothes to prepare for their next class.

  She changed back to her school clothes, and then sat down, still holding her stomach. She felt a bit light headed at this point. She didn't think about the emotions she had while running, or the thoughts of past or future. She thought of how sick she felt, and wanted to go to the nurse's office to lay down. She also wanted to go home and lay in bed, in the darkness, and flood the room with music. But she also didn't want to fall behind in school, because of the amount of time it would take to make up for it. Though she sometimes didn't care for school, and just wanted to be done with it.

  The bell rang, and she found herself going out in the midst of the crowd of girls to leave the locker room. She found her way to her locker, and put her gym clothes there, and then picked up her music book. She closed her locker door, and then felt thirsty. She drank a little water from the water fountain, and then continued her way to music class. This is when she remembered her teacher this morning, how concerned he looked. And she became nervous. 'What if he says something about it? What could I tell him? Would he believe I'm alright? Or maybe he believed me earlier... probably not.' Her thoughts raced, and her stomach turned as she worried about what he might say.

  As she entered the room, she saw her teacher already at his seat. One of her only teachers that stayed in their classroom, generally, before the class bell rang. She took her seat quietly, and saw that he didn't seem to notice her. She placed her music book on her desk, and then laid her arm on it, and then laid her head on her arm. She hoped he wouldn't see her before the bell rang. So she tried to lay low. She also still didn't feel very good, a little light headed, and felt that laying down was probably a good idea at the moment.

  The three minute bell rang. As she rested her head, she began to feel a bit better, but still light headed. Her nervousness was starting to go away. To get comfortable, she brought up her other arm for her to lay on as well, placing her forehead between both her forearms.

  The class bell rang, and all the students who hadn't already sat down, now took their seats. After a moment, Mr. Caldwell took attendance, and then stood up and began teaching the next lesson for the music class. He noticed Philomena, and she saw that he noticed her, but he didn't say or do anything, but she knew he would probably ask to talk to her after class. She began to have butterflies now as she thought about it. She tried to concentrate on the lesson without thinking about what might come after, but was finding it very difficult as her mind kept racing with trying to explain how she was doing, without giving any indication that she wasn't feeling well, and without straight up lying. She wasn't one to lie, so she found ways around lying, that would allow her to tell the truth, while letting people come to their own conclusions on what she was or wasn't saying. In this case, she would hope the assumption was that she was alright. If that didn't work, then she hoped that the inquiry of her well being would be halted.

  Many upon many different scenarios entered her mind, wondering what he might say, would say, could say, and how she could respond to each thing she could think that he might say. Rachel, who was on the other side of the room, had looked over, and could tell Philly was nervous about something, but she was too far away to be able to ask what was wrong. They usually talked after class, and walked to the cafeteria together for lunch. Or talked when they had group projects to do, which was often. Mr. Caldwell believed that people learn better when paired with other people, so he implemented this technique quite often. He just had to make sure they were learning, and he would go around helping anyone who still needed help. To explain anything more he may need to explain, or encourage the students to keep working. It was a fun atmosphere, and Philly learned quite a lot from this class because of it. Though she sometimes had trouble working with others, she did notice that she did in fact learn better with others. Hearing their thoughts and ideas, added to her own, spawned more creativity and ideas to help figure out what they could do. Whether it be writing a short piece of music, or playing instruments together, reading a music sheet, or interpreting music, to try to figure out what the author of that music was trying to convey, she felt like working with someone helped in all of those things, in some way, and just added to the fun.

  Today, there was no group projects, so Philly had no breaks in her worry. When class was over though, she tried to get out as fast as possible. Generally, she waits for the other classmates to go on, and then she follows behind, as not to get in anyone's way. But this time, she picked up her music book and her book bag, which she placed her music book in, and started towards the door right as the bell rang. Before she got out the door though, Mr. Caldwell called to her.

  “Philomena, a word please.” Philly moved to the side by the door, and after all the students had left, she walked over to his desk. On her way over, she noticed Rachel was waiting for her just outside the door, looking a bit confused.

  Mr. Caldwell looked up to Philomena. “I noticed you have been quite down lately, especially today. Is there something going on that you need to talk about? Anything at all?” He looked into her eyes, which scared her. She felt exposed some how, and afraid. Her thoughts traveling a thousand miles a second. Her heart beating in her ear as she tried to think straight, but couldn't. What could she say? She thought all class period what she might say, but now that her conversation was happening, she didn't know where to start, or if she wanted to start at all. She was afraid of letting anyone know what was on her mind. She figured it would go away soon enough anyways, it generally did. Though it had been getting harder and harder the last few months, more and more difficult for it to go away. The pain would stay with her for days on end now, rather than minutes or hours. She wondered if the pain would ever go away, or if it would just get worse over time.

  After quite a bit of silence, she finally spoke up. “No. Nothing. I'm fine, totally.” She gave an obviously fake smile. “See? Everything is as it should be.”

  Mr. Caldwell didn't look as if he bought her smile, or her assurances and reassurances. “Well, if you do want to talk about it, I'm here. Although, I think there may be some other way you would express what ever it is that is going on. Can you step over to the piano real quick? This should just take a moment.”

  Philly looked very nervous, she didn't expect this at all. What other way could he mean for her to express herself? And what does her playing the piano have to do with anything? Though that is her instrument to play in the class, what would he have her play that would let her express herself? She hadn't expressed herself in music since she found out Andrew died. She wasn't sure how this could help, or show him anything, but she decided to comply. “O-okay.” She nervously walked over to sit at the piano, her fingers shaking. “N-now what?”

  “Play.” Mr. Caldwell sat back in his chair, as if he was waiting to listen to her improvement in playing a new piece of music he had given her to learn and play.

  “Play what?” She l
ooked at him, confused. There was no sheet music on the piano, so she didn't know what he expected.

  “Play.” He responded.

  “Okay...” She began to play the last piece she had been given to learn. After the fifth note, Mr. Caldwell recognized it.

  “Stop. Don't play what you have learned. Play what is in your heart.”

  Philomena was very scared now. 'Play what is in my heart?' She looked down to her heart. She felt the pain still there. She became even more worried. She was afraid to play what was in her heart. Fearing it would come out to the world to hear all that lay within, to hear and see for themselves the pain she had there. That the audience, no matter how small, would hear through the notes played, the pain. She would break down if anyone saw or heard that pain. But then she remembered that most people don't seem to really understand or feel music like she does. So she became a little less worried, thinking she might be able to get away with it. Though she was still nervous, she began to put her shaking fingers against the keys of the piano, and began to play.

  At first, it was slow, and quiet. One note, and a few seconds later, another note. Her