Until My Final Breath, Part 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Link to Part 1: https://www.booksie.com/504298-until-my-final-breath-part-1
Francesca's life was never an easy one, but she always had music by her side. Her parents were never idols, so she looked up to the faces of classical music instead. After many years of pursuing her passion, she finally has a chance to let her name shine, but dark dreams threaten to destroy her chance, and her fans' expectations become at stake. Her big chance will not be easy, for all the effort she will put into it will become unhealthy for her body. When all the odds are stacked against her, will she still fight for her dream?
Written by Pink Sky and ThePoeticSinner.

Submitted: May 01, 2017

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Submitted: May 01, 2017

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Until My Final Breath

Part 2

 

Francesca was sitting on her bed away from her parents, her part of Italy always containing incomplete jigsaw pieces. Hearing the noise of celebration as her younger sibling has some great news to share downstairs, the face of Francesca is a ripped newspaper. When her family has good news to celebrate, the life of Fran becomes plastic.

Sick of hearing all the noise that is being celebrated below, wearing a hearing aid would be as fragile as an elevator. Stranded in her own bedroom the only fish in the pond, dying because reaching the surface contains no air to breathe. Laying on her bed as she watches all of the four walls fall to keep the noise away, painting them with a different colour will give her amnesia.

Hearing noise coming up the stairs, it's the reason why Fran never cares. Her life is confiscated when she is the only contact in her own mobile phone, her body not containing the same family blood but only bone, her life the stone thrown. Her parents enter her bedroom, not with a handsome be groom, only with news that will spell 'boom'.

"Francesca sweetheart....your brother is performing on the same night of your concert....and we will be going to see him perform....we're sorry we can't make it for your big performance...."

"What is there to be fucking sorry about? You can't afford to see your daughter perform because she is fucking dying....you both are poor parents....always leaving me on the outside....please leave my room....I don't want to see any of you anymore tonight...."

The slightest moment of time passes by, the sand placed inside glass will not build a pyramid. Fran is watching her favourite film The Crow, and will pause it the moment Eric Draven tells Sarah "I do care." Leaving the film paused on that scene, the last light of the day is needing sleeping pills.

She will go to look out of her window and sees a crow sitting lonely on the ledge, having second doubts about jumping off to commit suicide on the earth below. The crow is walking forwards and backwards, the same as the eyesight in Fran's eyes. The crow will stare into Fran, but unlike the film it will not grant her superhuman abilities so she can kill the thugs in revenge that are her parents.

The crow will fly away, and with it the night will bring darkness today. Fran will get ready for bed to fulfill her need, at least tonight she didn't bleed. Changed and ready for sleep, she will crawl into her bed for that slumbered deep. The coffin has become her bed, demons are waiting to be fed.

However, Fran cannot sleep well as she cannot lay still when she begins to dream again, she is falling wearing a severed parachute. Appearing again in that same alley, she always takes the long way home to sleep in her own dreams. At the end is the strange masked man and the king cobra, she went to the wrong circus.

Fran will kneel down and pray, hoping someone will answer her emotional call when tears don't. Closing her eyes a mist will cover the alley, making her next flight to a better place to become cancelled. A crow will squawk in front of Fran as she is praying, and a shadow will appear behind the things that keep turning her dreams into nightmares.

The painted face shadow will touch both the masked man and the cobra, and they will both turn into a flock of crows flying in the sky without saying the words "Abracadabra." The Fog getting darker as the painted faced shadow looks at Fran praying, her anti-hero came without any of the delaying. He will keep his distance, and say the perfect words for this instance.

"It can't rain all the time...."

"Eric?"

Fran will open her eyes but the shadow and the crow have gone, while the flock of crows above are dancing on imaginary ice. A tear will roll down her cheek for happiness, she didn't see but heard the words she needed to hear from The Crow. Eric once said that line to Sarah; and it was the title of a song by his band Hangman's Joke, so Fran will see it as that the hanging rope of an illness in her body will not kill her before her big performance.

Waking up from her dream in the early hours of the morning, Francesca will smile for once since the effect of them never painted on her face the sad smile of a clown. Looking out her window, she will see the same crow on her ledge, and maybe the same one that guided Eric to his love Shelley. The crow will fly away forever, the person that she guided defeated the nightmares in her dreams.

Fran will continue to look outside, and now she knows she has no more reason to hide. She has hope in her life again, even if her life has little left because of her mortal pain. For the last moments of her life she will smile, she will sing the last moments of her life which will not be vile. Ready for anything, she will let the world hear her sing.

The beautiful Italian girl stared at a piece of paper held high in her hands, a big smile drawn on her face. Her eyes had dark circles underneath them, yet they still glimmered with pride.

Her song was finally finished. She had stayed up all night writing and rewriting it as she pleased, and now here it is, between her manicured nails. She was happy, oh how she was happy!

It was all thanks to those dreams; for giving life to a new muse inside of her. For giving her hope. Because even after her darkest nights, after her most terrifying nightmares, she will always have her songs to sing.

Francesca turned on her favorite music, as relaxing as her daydream of a perfect vacation, and went to bed as the sun slowly rose in the sky. Today was her big day, the defining moment of her career… no, of her life. And now, nothing was going to stop her. The Land of the Stars was a few steps near.

Nighttime come, and our starlet was standing backstage, just a few feet away from the entrance. Her hair was done up, beauty-queen style, and she was wearing a blue lace dress, with raglan sleeves and a knee-length skirt.

Fran could hear the din of the audience from behind the curtains, expecting her to come out any minute. Her hand on her chest, she exhaled deeply, trying to let the pressure out of her system, but for no avail.

This was the night she had always dreamed of, but what if everything went wrong?

She remembered the CD compiled of her favourite songs that she always kept in her purse. She brought it out, and placed it inside the small, nearby radio set.

Now listening to the theme 'Inertia' from her favourite film The Crow, the violin playing music is the airways in her body that is ready to come alive with the sound of her voice. The song feeling like she is stuck in the moment forever, the strong blood inside her body is alive enough so that she can record her live album being played tonight.

No live audience was recorded on the CD, and she prefers it this way because it means she has the whole world watching instead. No clapping hands from the audience is not bad memories of when she was first left in water by her father, where her splashing hands were broken ships that barely kept her above the surface. Feeling like the musician playing the music, she makes the world stand still so that it cannot spin backwards to play the same song again.

The same kind of classical music she will play tonight, Fran felt so proud of this moment hearing the music that gave her heart sight. Closing her eyes to become one with the music forever, they write the notes and she will combine her voice to create music of operatic together. No one to distract her moment, flower of classical scent. She felt one with the music, walking airily on its lines and jumping on its notes, like a happy child beneath the rain. Her red lips extended in a tranquil smile.

However, her delicate reverie turned out to be short-lived. Francesca felt something trickle from her nose, and as she opened her eyes, she saw the blood falling into her lap and tainting her dress. She quickly stood up, the harmony now stifled as horror flooded her mind.

Dio mio! This can’t be happening, not now!”

She ran to the changing room, bumping into a group of people on her way.

In that moment Francesca was no wizard, and no cleaning detergent had the magic of that wizard's wand. Running water from the tap and dampening a cloth, hoping that by wiping the blood she is wiping rain away from the window.

She is trying to clear it up the best she can, but the mess she is making is fucking up a painting she never drew. She should have been on stage by now, how time cannot pause when life is stuck inside the glass of an hourglass. She has to hurry because the crowd may get impatient and leave, and with refunds not available her performance will become a broken CD where tracks cannot be skipped.

She had no clean clothes but something that was remembered for another occasion, on a chess board this was her only chance of evasion. From her bag she pulled out a beautiful white dress, and when she wore it she looked like a beautiful bride without the beautiful stress. She could hear the crowd booing so loud, but this will not phase Fran as she is about to give a performance that will make her operatic idols like Beethoven and Chopin proud. Leaving her room to enter the stage, she is finally out of her frustrations cage.

The crowd booed loudly because Fran arrived on stage several minutes late, and the booing sounded like a piano out of key. She kept her head down because she was not ready to face them yet, her features were a ninja faceless. The booing was her punishment for being late, in school exams she got an A for 'absent'.

The crowd not sounding like the live audience normally heard on CD, only inside a theatre do they sound like terrorists.

Mie scuse…”

The singer wanted to apologize further, but her voice was muffled by even louder scoffs.

“This is what you get for being late, Francesca,” she thought, her integrity at fault.

But she could not allow herself to walk off stage. This was her moment to claim; and it was now or never.

She took a deep breath, and ushered at the disc jockey to play the first song.

The microphone held tightly in her hand, she looked at the crowd in front of her, fiery confidence burning in her hazels.

As the song started, she sang in a lilting, weightless tone, her voice clear and ethereal like the purest crystal. She quickly lost herself in her own singing, and went on by letting her soul take over. And it was as if she cast a spell on the audience, who stood mesmerized, enchanted by the virtuous soprano in front of them. It took them a minute to somewhat wake up from their trance, enough for them to sway their heads to the melody.

Her first song came to an end, and the audience applauded with warmth and delight. Her white dress shimmering like snow beneath the spotlight, a big grin drawn on her face, she fervently waved her delayed hellos, and went on with her concert. After all, the night was still young.

She began performing her second song, playing it on the piano where the played notes deliver a shiver down the audiences' spine.

Seeing in the crowd her whole family arrive, this made Fran smile twice just in case the first time smiling at something was an illusion. Singing her heart out, she will need a heart transplant very quickly. Looking like an angel on a stage that she has made her home, classical music is resurrected through her beautiful voice.

Her family stand up in the crowd creating heart symbols with their hands, finally a family is connected by the same blood of all lands. Fran will create the same symbol and the audience will cheer aloud, the singing voice of Francesca has built her own operatic shroud. The audience is witnessing her performance of oblivion that is not afraid, witnessing tonight a star made.

Tears fell down her cheeks, but unlike her past weeps, this time they were tears of ecstasy. She felt like the queen of her own ball, like a bride on her wedding night. Good thing that this time, she was wearing waterproof mascara.

Her happiness was immeasurable, like flying through the clouds on the way to heaven. At last, the Land of the Stars was now beneath her feet.

Singing live on that stage, Fran felt safe tonight. Changing into that white dress made her skin feel slightly more than mortal, a heavenly colour to match her voice, bride and groom marry in holy matrimony. The audience are her hostages, but she won't demand a ransom; instead just some faces that are her security of performing live.

On the wall behind Francesca a message in glowing lights was revealed, thanking family, friends and fans who all came out tonight; the best way to send a thank you card. The crowd erupted in applause seeing how thankful and sincere Fran was that they all came, the lava from a volcanic eruption will only give the audience sunburn.

The crowd was generous, proving her vocal talents were not venomous. A theatre that could not become full were the rumours once said, how now Fran has made those words bled. If the playing strings of the harp were water she was walking on top of the waves, the audience in a trance have become generous slaves.

The audience's applauses lasted for the most glorious minute of Francesca's life. Her heart tried to clap with bliss, but it pounded with the pain of the drum instead. Venom striking as the snake will kiss, the colour of her heart is losing red.

She tried to ignore the pain, but it only grew stronger and stronger. Soon, she was on her knees, clutching her heart with her hands, and gasping for air. In water that doesn't appear, she was struggling to breathe, the surface of air was now miles away. The audience didn’t know if Francesca was trying to deceive, but her strangled heart had a limited stay.

The crowds then cried and screamed in panic, but their commotion became dissimulated by the sound of their applauses replaying in her mind. The repeating clapping has become a painful, comfortable headache. And for a laying down Fran, the crowd did cry; their tears were the emotion of Fran's life on the stake.

The applause was meant for a beautiful performance, yet her pain wanted to rain on her parade. The combination of both not asking for a dance, painful comfort is the reward when the night doesn't have the spotlight of shade.

She smiled as recollections of her night recurred to her, and one last tear fell down from her eye and unto the floor. Above her, the spotlights became hazy, like sunrays on a cloudy day. They flickered and glimmered faintly, before fading forever as her eyes closed.

Francesca sung her heart out to be in God's hands, but instead of a funeral her performance was her wedding. Her wedding now over, the bride of music can finally reach the stars.

Click me

 

The End.




© Copyright 2017 Pink Sky. All rights reserved.

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