The Cello Player

A Story by MoonlightUsami

If time could be controlled, how would you use it? Would you save a life? Fix a mistake? People wish that time could bend to their will yet seem to forget what they can do now.

It was a busy day for the Rememberance of Life Museum. People would always flaunt into the halls every time a new addition would be added. At first it would be startling. But as time would pass, the hustle and bustle of the crowd did not bother her anymore. How could it? She was just a mechanical being. Sitting neatly on a stool with a cello resting on a stand and the bow within her palm upon her lap. The gears within would have rusted long ago if it wasn't for the constant upkeep to make her as pristine as the other robotic beings around her. A pale blue dress covers her like a sheet and her golden brown hair flows down her shoulders in spiraling ringlets. That was all that she knew. She knew not what her face appeared to be or how well she could play the instrument that always sat beside her.
Now there was not enough people visiting that could be considered a crowd. But she still sat still waiting. Waiting for some person to press the button at the small stand in front of her display so that she could perform. No one ever did. She did not know why.
If anything was a consistency at the Rememberance of Life Museum it would be the owner, Mr. Fitzgerald, scattering about the room and through different hallways trying to get people to help save the Museum.
And... a man.
He was sharply dressed in a suit and tie with slicked back hair. To passerbys he was intimidating and scary. Almost unapproachable, unless you look into his eyes.
At first they appear cold, with a face that seemed to be made of stone permanently stuck in a fierce frown, yet deep within those dark brown eyes was sorrow and regret.
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She looked as beautiful as she always did. Even though she was just a recreation made from scrap metal. James thought she must have been an amazing girl before... no, he did not want to reflect on it. He still blamed himself for what happened. He couldn't avoid the guilt.
James would visit the Rememberance of the cello girl out of guilt and the constant seeking for some sign that the girl would forgive him. Then it dawned on him.
It was the anniversary today...
It was the one he would never want anyone to but himself to endure.
For the life of a guilty conscience is not easy.
The distraction of his co-worker calling him, the screeching of the tires... that horrid noise!
No!
James shook out of the terror and pain that overtook him. It was in the past now. All he could do was beg for her to forgive him even though it was too late for her.
A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.
He wasn't in his car.
He wasn't there again.
Pain exploded faster than anything James had knew before.
Someone punched him.
The man who knew what James had done.

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It was raining today. It seemed like the perfect weather to describe how Dan felt that day.
The pain of losing someone can
never be described in words or action of any form. It is a horrible feeling no one should have to deal with. Yet here he was. Standing on a crowded street while the rain pounded onto his aching form like bullets. His trench coat was soaked to the point it made him appear homeless. Not that it would be surprising.
Dan tries to drink away the pain in his heart.
But it never fades.
His sweet little sister, torn from his side in an instant. Leaving him to wallow in regret and self pity.
Finally, he mustered up the courage to enter the building. A bouquet of sunflowers hung limply from his right hand.
Dan could have sworn the museum was filled with idle chatter when he entered the building.
Walking slowly towards where his sister's robotic memory was only to stop when he saw who was in front of her.
The only noise that seemed audible was the droplets of water falling off his sullen form and crashing to the ground.
Then he was filled with rage. The sunflowers fell to the ground but no noise was to be heard.
Dan practically flung himself toward the man who dared to show his face to her; grabbing his shoulder and punching him as soon as he turned around.