The Sound of Philly

by Brandon Bird

heard, even if just faintly, it was there. She could hear their hearts, as she could hear worry, and fear, and concern. She could hear, what sounded to her as reluctance to battle. Both sides were filled with hearts that gave this sound. But there were also other hearts pounding in fury and rage. She could hear their hearts screaming for blood. The music of the battle quieted as her world focused on one particular individual. As the rest of the music quieted, his music began, starting quiet, but quickly grew louder and louder, as if he was the only one there.

  His music began with a soft drum, which seemed to echo slowly. A trombone began to play softly behind the drum now. She could hear his thoughts, she could hear his reluctance to battle. Then his eyes opened. The music suddenly stopped as he did, as he saw something. The world of color shifted, to see what he saw. There was a young woman on the battle field. he recognized her. Who was she? Why was she here, in the midst of battle?

  As this young woman was seen, she opened her mouth, as if she were screaming something. She took a pause from her screaming, she had heard something, and was looking into the field of fighting men, and to the men who stood in the back who were afraid to enter this fight. Some had already run away, while others finally charged in at those they considered an enemy.

  She saw the man, the man had called to her. He knew her. The music began again as the two began to run to each other. Their mouths opened, as if they were calling to each other. Music of all kinds sounding up as they ran to meet each other, every step closer, the music grew louder. The joy was felt as they reached each other, with a big hug, smiling in the arms of the other.

  But this joy was short, as suddenly came silence. The world changed, the sound of a tuba, deep and low in sound with long notes. The world was now in slow motion, until she saw it. A stray bullet which had fired from the side the man had been on, which bounced out of the front of the barrel of the gun, causing it to miss its intended target, headed towards the two. The motion sped up, but the music stayed the same as the bullet struck into the man's back, going through into the young woman's heart as well before the bullet's velocity was stopped.

  They both slowly fell to the ground, and fell to lay beside each other in the now trampled field. The world before Philly's eyes zoomed out slowly, and as it did, the music became louder and louder, to fit what had just happened, and to show the fighting was still going on. Most of the fighting took place to the side of the now dead couple, who had been married. The man had gone to the battle, feeling it to be his duty, though still very reluctant. His wife had come to stop him, hoping to reach him before he was killed. She ran onto the battle field, not knowing where he might be, not giving thought to the possibility of being hit, too focused on rescuing who she loved from the clutches of the madness that was happening.

  The colors finally faded into black, and Philly found herself in a dark world, music of sadness filling her being. A tear came to her eye as the colors of the classroom came back to her.

  She saw her text book still open to page two-hundred and twelve. The teacher was discussing something regarding a particular battle during the Civil War, but Philly didn't know where the teacher was at at this point.

  She listened, and glanced through the history book as she wiped the tear from her eye. She couldn't let anyone see her cry. Not now, not ever, not for any reason. Fearing that, if anyone saw, they would make fun of her, or pity her, or give her attention that, she didn't think she could handle. Feeling like, if someone were to see the pain within her, she would break down into a thousand unheard clefs, to indicate each and every pitch she would feel like screaming in pain, but unable to bring herself to make one sound.

  She saw the battle name discussed on page two-hundred and fourteen. She heard where the teacher was, and glanced through the section to find she was talking of something that wasn't specifically in the book. So she tuned in more to the teacher.

  The rest of the class was discussing the Civil War, and some of the battles and living conditions during that time. The teacher did her best to explain what it was like to live during that time, which only filled Philly with more sadness, as she tried to imagine such living conditions. She wouldn't know what she would do if she were living in that time period.

  When class was over, she picked up her books, and waited for the two students behind her to pass by her desk before she stood up. She walked past the two seats that were ahead of hers, to the front of the room where all the other students had already reached and were walking out the door, and followed behind them.

  What she experienced in class, was not the first time something like that happened. She often found herself imagining a scene, and her mind would put in music to fit the scene of what she imagined. She knew the scenes she imagined were all from her imagination, that they were not things that actually happened, but sometimes she would wonder if they could have been real at some time, if they could have happened. She would keep these wondering thoughts to herself, however, but would write down the music she could remember. And whenever she would read the music again, at a later time, she would sometimes remember the scene she had imagined for that music to come out.

  Now, most of these scenes she imagines, touch her, but none as deeply as this one had. It showed a version of how she felt deep inside. How she felt like the young woman that was seen in the middle of the battle field, chaos all around her. This chaos, the battle, represented the world. And the man, represented her friend, Andrew, who she had lost.

  How he felt in the war, being reluctant to go into it, represented how Andrew had been shy to the world. He could only find himself able to play his violin for himself, and sometimes for his parents, and for Philomena.

  He had given her the nick name of Philly, and she kept it. She liked it a lot more than her own name, it sounded better to her for some reason, and she wasn't going to give it up. It was one of the only things that could remind her of him, without making her feel like she would break.

  The young couple being shot, to her, represented how she felt. When she lost Andrew, she felt as if she died too. As though what killed him, had effectively killed her, striking her heart.

  And though she had been told what happened, that a drunk man had turned into the wrong lane, and ran straight into them at the speed limit of that particular highway, because the drunk man had died too, she decided she would blamed the world for taking her friend's life. She blamed the chaos of the world for taking the life of one she cared for so deeply. The careless world, that is so chaotic, that they would allow such things as alcohol to be available that could potentially result in lives being taken. The world that was so much into pleasure and doing things in the now, that they could not take responsibility for what happened. She took to blaming the world, rather than blaming the man. She felt someone should be blamed, and since the man had died, she blamed the next in line, the one that allowed such a component that made mental capabilities and motor movements into difficult tasks.

  Though Andrew's parents had died in that wreck as well, she did not know them as well, so she was not as connected to them, and thought of them far less often, but did not completely ignore them. She sometimes imagined what might happen if her own parents were to get in a car accident and die. Whether with her in the car or not. But she could not bear to think about this too long, because it scared her to think of it actually happening.

  Then the camera zooming out to show the now dead couple in the midst of the chaos of the battle, even if they were not right in the middle, she saw this to represent how they had died in the midst, and saw how small they were in the scheme of things. That their deaths did not seem to matter so much. The chaos continued with or without them being around.

  As Philly walked in the halls towards her next class, she felt just how the scene she had seen, related to her, and how it struck her heart. She kept her books at her chest, especially over her heart, as if to cover it, as if to hide it so no one could see her heart and how it ached right now. This was just one of thos
e days that she was having trouble with her emotions in how they were getting to her, and she was having trouble keeping them silent and still. She wanted so much to drown everything out in music right now, but she hadn't brought her music player with her. Not that the music players were allowed at school anyways, because they weren't, but a lot of students got away with having them, and some teachers didn't mind as long as you got your work done.

  She entered her second hour class, Pre-algebra. As she sat in her seat, she felt she was on the brink of tears. The three minute bell rang. She didn't know if she could handle being in class right now, she didn't know if she could handle being around people right now. Her mind filled with thoughts of pain and old memories of her friend that she had seen as a brother. He had only been two years older than her, and he had great talent, and could cheer her up like no other. 'Why did the world have to take away someone so precious?!' Philly thought to herself, as a few tears broke through her eyes. At feeling the tears break free of their bondage, streaming onto her face, she rubbed them out, and then got up and walked out of the class as calmly and as collected as she could. A few of the