The Beat
One of One
This was her time. It was the only time in her life that she felt calm anymore, where she didn’t feel like she could fall apart at the seams if she even breathed.
In her lap sat a bass drum, tilted on its side. She ran her hand over the rim of the drum and closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Calmness. It rushed over her like a warm blanket, concealing her heartache and pain in its strong afterglow. She released the breath but didn’t open her eyes, her fingers trailing to the middle of the drum.
This was her life. This was her talent and passion. This drum that lay in her lap was her reason for existing. Nothing felt as powerful as holding the instrument within her grasp.
When she opened her eyes, she realized that she was trembling. She forced back the lump in her throat and clung to the drum, clung to it like her life depended on it. She couldn’t afford to lose it. Not today. Not ever. Not anymore.
She had suffered an incredible loss months ago. A friend of hers who she had held so dearly to her heart and had cherished and praised with all the words within her had died. It had been her time, but it was something she couldn’t prepare herself for. The sense of abandonment and anger she’d felt after the loss was excruciating and physically crippling. Each breath that she took after the incident left her breathless and expelled. She was angry she couldn’t save her friend. Angry, hurt and disappointed. She could have done more, she felt.
Her hands tightened hard on the drum, knuckles turning white as the face of her friend appeared in her mind. The kind smile, her laugh, the way she protected her. Everything came back in a flood of emotion and she wasn’t prepared enough for it. The tears ran down her face, hot and unbridled. Anguish reared its head within her heart and she struggled to remain above the negative thoughts.
“Reese wouldn’t have wanted this,” she said aloud to herself, a calming technique she had picked up from therapy and found extremely useful. “She would want me to keep going with music. She knew how much I loved it.”
Taking a deep breath, Bethany stood up and pulled the straps for the bass drum over her head so that they rested comfortably on her shoulders. She found the bass mallets and picked them up, her fingers tracing the familiar thin wood before it settled firmly into her hands. She raised her right hand and brought it back down slowly.
BOOM.
Reese was there, holding her. Her own wrist was bloody and Reese was crying. She was petrified for her, Bethany could see that in her eyes. Reese made her promise never to do it again. She couldn’t lose her. So Bethany had promised, not wanting to cause her friend pain. She hadn’t done it since.
BOOM.
Another hit with the left. Another image. They were at the mall buying clothes, and Bethany had picked out the perfect outfit for Reese. Reese had come out crying, hating her body and hating the way she looked. Bethany had hugged her tight and made her promise that she would never think of herself as hideous and fat. She wanted Reese to see herself as beautiful, as she saw her.
BOOM. BOOM.
The tempo increased, Bethany’s eyes flooding with salty tears as they opened, blinding her. Reese was nothing short of a kindred spirit to her. A best friend, somebody who truly understood and loved with an open heart. She missed her more than anything, but she knew that she had made an impact on Reese’s life while she was here. She had done the same to Bethany, and she would never be able to thank her enough.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Music flooded from within her, her passion being released after months of being hidden.
Reese would have wanted her to be happy. Reese would have wanted her to live. There was nothing stronger than their friendship, and even though Reese was no longer there, Bethany wasn’t about to let her down.
A smile slowly curved across her face as she started a fast tempo, one she had learned in band. This was living. This was joy, this was art, this was heart, and more importantly, it was soul. This was living.
Now, Bethany was doing it for the both of them.
In her lap sat a bass drum, tilted on its side. She ran her hand over the rim of the drum and closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Calmness. It rushed over her like a warm blanket, concealing her heartache and pain in its strong afterglow. She released the breath but didn’t open her eyes, her fingers trailing to the middle of the drum.
This was her life. This was her talent and passion. This drum that lay in her lap was her reason for existing. Nothing felt as powerful as holding the instrument within her grasp.
When she opened her eyes, she realized that she was trembling. She forced back the lump in her throat and clung to the drum, clung to it like her life depended on it. She couldn’t afford to lose it. Not today. Not ever. Not anymore.
She had suffered an incredible loss months ago. A friend of hers who she had held so dearly to her heart and had cherished and praised with all the words within her had died. It had been her time, but it was something she couldn’t prepare herself for. The sense of abandonment and anger she’d felt after the loss was excruciating and physically crippling. Each breath that she took after the incident left her breathless and expelled. She was angry she couldn’t save her friend. Angry, hurt and disappointed. She could have done more, she felt.
Her hands tightened hard on the drum, knuckles turning white as the face of her friend appeared in her mind. The kind smile, her laugh, the way she protected her. Everything came back in a flood of emotion and she wasn’t prepared enough for it. The tears ran down her face, hot and unbridled. Anguish reared its head within her heart and she struggled to remain above the negative thoughts.
“Reese wouldn’t have wanted this,” she said aloud to herself, a calming technique she had picked up from therapy and found extremely useful. “She would want me to keep going with music. She knew how much I loved it.”
Taking a deep breath, Bethany stood up and pulled the straps for the bass drum over her head so that they rested comfortably on her shoulders. She found the bass mallets and picked them up, her fingers tracing the familiar thin wood before it settled firmly into her hands. She raised her right hand and brought it back down slowly.
BOOM.
Reese was there, holding her. Her own wrist was bloody and Reese was crying. She was petrified for her, Bethany could see that in her eyes. Reese made her promise never to do it again. She couldn’t lose her. So Bethany had promised, not wanting to cause her friend pain. She hadn’t done it since.
BOOM.
Another hit with the left. Another image. They were at the mall buying clothes, and Bethany had picked out the perfect outfit for Reese. Reese had come out crying, hating her body and hating the way she looked. Bethany had hugged her tight and made her promise that she would never think of herself as hideous and fat. She wanted Reese to see herself as beautiful, as she saw her.
BOOM. BOOM.
The tempo increased, Bethany’s eyes flooding with salty tears as they opened, blinding her. Reese was nothing short of a kindred spirit to her. A best friend, somebody who truly understood and loved with an open heart. She missed her more than anything, but she knew that she had made an impact on Reese’s life while she was here. She had done the same to Bethany, and she would never be able to thank her enough.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Music flooded from within her, her passion being released after months of being hidden.
Reese would have wanted her to be happy. Reese would have wanted her to live. There was nothing stronger than their friendship, and even though Reese was no longer there, Bethany wasn’t about to let her down.
A smile slowly curved across her face as she started a fast tempo, one she had learned in band. This was living. This was joy, this was art, this was heart, and more importantly, it was soul. This was living.
Now, Bethany was doing it for the both of them.