Sienna lifted her fingers from the chipped ivory keys. She looked down at her shaking hands, bearing the burden of her secret's secrets. Her melodies, that had once been so gentle and pure, like the fresh snow, were now heavy and made the heart ache. In her small room of few objects and many walls, she swayed to the throb of her own song. Bubbling to the surface was years of realization, guilt, fear. The demons drifted out from her soul and wrapped around anything they came into contact with. Even her writings withered at her touch. There was not a single laugh nor careless giggle left inside her being. She had been hallowed out by the pain of many lifetimes.
Sienna's piano, her one last hope, melted away into another memory as the room faded into the foreground. She fell all the way through the back of the world, where no one would dare search for her. At this distance, she could still hear her sad lullabies weaving through a network of buzzing ideas.
The alone was eerily perfect. She forgot to hold back her tears and fears. They fumbled out of her mind in a mess, and from some other world she saw her figure collapse into a pitiful heap.
Life was in her hands, like the seed of a rose, which she could choose to nurse to a towering beauty that would only prick her to tears in the end. Or she should crush it into a dust, and let it rejoin the free-blowing wind.
Instead, Sienna idly let her hands drift along the sad notes, which so screamed for freedom of the boundaries of her mind. For eternity she was caged into this loop of events, this mindset. But if she only pleased, it would be too easy to let go and slip past where one can ever return...