The first time I remember hearing Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven I was sitting in my room quietly playing with my dolls. I stopped playing and listened to the laments of the piano my mother played. I’d never heard the song before, just as I hadn’t heard many other songs she played. Its haunting rhythm filled the air as I sat in silence just listening. She played it differently than she did other songs. It sounded as if she had given her soul to the music. The other songs she’d play sounded rehearsed; she had played them thousands of times over, every note perfected just as my step-father, Rick, made her do. It was at that moment of hearing the song that I understood the sadness she constantly felt.

Everyone had to be very quiet when she played or else he would get mad and start yelling. He didn’t like when his tranquil atmosphere was disturbed. My older brother and mother took the brunt of his anger. I was rather invisible to him which I didn’t mind. I didn’t like the attention he gave mom and Julian. Though I was only 11, I knew he was the one administering the bruises that spotted their bodies. I knew they weren’t accidents. No one falls that many times. I pretended to believe them anyway.

When he demanded for her to play, he sat across the room in his leather chair with a glass of scotch in his hand listening to the music he forced out of her. One time he let me come into the living room to watch with him, an offer I regretted to take. He kept a steady gaze on my mother while she played, critiquing her every note. She missed a note and subtly winced, her weary blue eyes closing for a brief second. Rick’s jaw clenched and gripped the glass tighter. I held my breath. The song continued. When he was done having her play he simply took the last gulp of his drink and slammed the empty glass down next to her. I jumped as she sat perfectly still, like she expected it to come. He paused and looked at me with his tiny honey colored eyes then walked away.

“I wish I could play like you, mom.” I said to her. She stood up and brushed a wisp of dark blonde hair from her face, kissing the top of my head as she walked out of the room in silence, arms folded and posture bent.

One night I found myself home alone with Julian, both parents supposed to be gone for the night. I hadn’t heard that haunting song but once and wanted so desperately to hear it again. I sat down at the piano and gingerly touched a smooth ivory key. I quietly tested the keys to find the right ones to start with. Before I could find it, Julian hurriedly came up behind me and grabbed my wrist.

“Are you stupid or something?” he asked. I just looked at him, eye’s blinking and scared. “If Rick comes home and catches you playing mom’s piano he’ll kill you.” He warned.

“I just want to learn a song mom played once. He said won’t be home for hours.” I looked into Julian’s pale blue eyes and saw my mother. Constantly carrying worry and concern on his face as my mother did, he looked much older than 14. His soft, wavy, light brown hair much resembled mine though he kept his much shorter. He was tall and thin; his clothes always seemed to be a size too big. He mulled it over for a moment then nervously sat on the bench along with me, asking me to hum how the song went. He quickly identified the song and started to choppily play the melody with his slender fingers almost silently. I was surprised at how good he was at playing by ear. Just as he was beginning to get the hang of it, Rick had stormed into the room. Before I knew what was going on he slammed the lid on my brother’s fingers and slapped him on the back of the head.

“Why the hell are you playing that piano?” he yelled angrily. Hushed tears streamed down Julian’s face as he looked down at his crushed fingers. “Oh no, I made him cry.” He said feigning sympathy. “The little faggot boy’s crying! Look how that faggot brother of yours cries, Lily!” he said to me with a hateful smirk. Julian’s face and ears began to turn red. He tried to stifle the sobs that involuntarily shook his chest. I had heard him being called that name before, by Rick and also by kids at school. I didn’t know what it meant; I only knew that it made my brother cry every time he was called it.

I sat there in guilt. I had never seen Rick actually hurt Julian or my mom, only the aftermath. It was my fault he was playing in the first place. My fingers should be crushed, not his. My eyes started to water.

“And what the hell are you crying for?” he said to me, raising his voice. “I haven’t even touched you yet!” My gaze remained fixed at the floor. He slapped my cheek hard. “Quit your crying!” he roared.

A deranged gaze possessed Julian's eyes. He leapt from the piano bench. “Don’t touch my sister!” He yelled in the most masculine voice he could choke out. He grabbed Rick’s neck with his bruising fingers and squeezed as hard as he could manage. Rick’s face turned a bright red as he twisted his neck away from Julian’s grasp. He broke free and slammed Julian’s up against the wall, his head making a dreadful noise when it hit. All I could do was cry as I watched Rick mercilessly beat Julian. When it looked like he could take no more, Rick gave him one final shove into the wall and let go. Julian slinked down to the ground, body all black and blue. Rick pointed to me.

“You say a word to anyone, that’ll be you.” he motioned toward my beaten brother with his head. I looked up at him glassy eyed and nodded my head in comprehension. He walked off.

I fumbled through the cabinet to find the bottle of Valium for my mother as I did every morning. I poured out 4 pills from the newly refilled bottle onto the counter, pocketed 2, and walked the rest to my mother who was on the couch wrapped in a blanket staring blankly at the television that was too low for anyone to hear. Her once beautiful golden hair was tied back in a greasy pony tail. I silently set them on the table next to her half empty wine bottle and glass and walked out of the room to find Julian. I stole my mother’s pills for him since I was the only one who ever got them for her. He said they helped him survive the hell Rick put him through. I just wanted to do anything I could to help him.

I remember the days when my real father lived with us. He was gone a lot for his work but when he came home he always brought a special something for me and Julian. I never understood why my mother would call him a scumbag behind his back until the day he went away for business and never came back. I later found out from Julian that his business was a woman in Ohio. I threw away all my something specials from him after that. When Rick came he was nice to us at first, treating us even better than my real father had. He even adopted us so he could be one of our legal guardians. But after a year or two, he dropped his act and gradually became the piece he is today. I lost my respect for my mother the day I found out he beat her and she did nothing about it. All her self-respect was drained as well.

Julian had a boyfriend, Eric, who was not-so-cleverly disguised as a friend. He had chocolaty brown hair that dripped over his eyes. He was forever running his fingers through it and throwing it to the back of his head. Eric was a year older than Julian with his own car. They spent most of their time together at Eric’s house, only a mile or two away, but occasionally they came to our house. He was completely oblivious to Rick’s abuse; Julian had become an expert at lying about getting into fights with guys from school to explain his bruises and scars. Since Eric went to a different school he never knew the difference.

Rick was working late one night and Julian took the rare opportunity to invite Eric over. The two spent most of the evening in Julian’s room as I watched the television in the front room. When it was getting close to the time Rick was to be home, Julian walked Eric out to the porch. They passed by me, unaware of my presence in the dark room cuddled in my blanket. I covertly watched them through the open window as they said their goodbyes. As they leaned in for a quick and discreet goodnight kiss, a pair of ominous headlights pulled up in the driveway. An apprehensive chill rushed through my body as I saw the two frantically jerk away from each others’ lips.
Rick burst from his truck, bolting straight toward Julian as he froze to the ground paralyzed with fear. Rick’s eyes burned through Julian and ripped him away from Eric. He pulled him into the house and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Eric alone in oblivion. I shrunk beneath my blanket trying to disappear into the couch as Rick slammed Julian up against the front door, causing a forced “family” picture of us to come crashing to the ground. I saw Eric jump on the porch as my brother’s frail body impounded the door that separated them, his eyes darting and scared.

“Is this what goes on when I leave you alone in my house?” Rick yelled into Julian’s face. Julian’s blue eyes cowered under Rick’s powerful stare, leaving Julian in petrified silence. “You’ve been involved with another little fag right under my nose?” he snarled. With that I saw Eric back away from the porch, speed walk to his car and drive off. Julian said nothing. I could see Julian trembling from the glow of the television. “I don’t want a queer in my house.” Rick snapped as he shoved Julian across the room leaving him in a heap of humiliation on the floor. “You and your faggot ass better not be here when I get back.” Rick said and spat on him, snatching away any ounce of dignity left in him. He ripped the door open and slammed it behind him, causing the house to shake in his departure.

Julian lay sobbing quietly on the floor. I emerged from my blanketed cocoon, thankful I had not been discovered, and realized I had been sweating. I slowly sat next to Julian on the floor and put my hand on his shoulder. He jumped and I told him it was okay, it was just me. He sat up and looked at me with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.

“What do I do?” he whispered delicately. I sat there pondering our options. I didn’t want to fathom what would happen if Rick came back with Julian still there. He had never actually kicked one of us out before, but he had also never known for sure about Julian’s homosexuality.

“We go.” I said to him. He frowned in confusion. “We just leave.” I said with confidence, though I lacked it severely. “I don’t want to live like this anymore.” I said, feeling more powerful with every sentence I uttered. “Rick can’t treat you how he does, it’s just not right.” I continued. “We should go to the police with this and –”

“Just stop.” Julian interrupted. “There’s nothing we can do about it, no one would believe us anyway.” He said hopelessly. I looked at him as he wiped his eyes and nose and started to pull himself back together. The glow of the television flickered his face with blue as we sat in silence. I was crushed. I thought he of all people would want out of this. He stood up and walked out of the room. I sat in the middle of the floor drained of all hope. I heard Julian prepare for bed on the other side of the house. I hoped more than anything that Rick wouldn’t come home tonight to find Julian still at the house. Hopefully it was just an empty threat. I decided to sleep on the floor of the room Julian was in, slinking in after I heard him soundly sleeping. If Rick were to do anything to him, I’d know as soon as it happened. Within moments I drifted off to a restless sleep and was awake before I realized I was sleeping.

To my relief I saw an untouched Julian sprawled out on the bed motionless and asleep. I got up to get the Valium for my mother. Two pills fell out leaving an empty bottle in my hand. I ignored the soulless lump of a mother on the couch, put the pills next to her wine and went to wake Julian. I sat on the bed next to him and gave him a nudge. He didn’t respond so I tried again. And again. And again. My heart viciously pounded inside me when he didn’t give so much as a groan or movement. Panic seized my mind as I violently shook my brother, pleading for him to wake up, fearing the worst. My vocal chords twisted into a knot and water began pouring out of my eyes. I shook him harder. Nothing. I lifted his delicate wrist and squeezed, desperately trying to find a pulse. I felt nothing and tried his neck. I waited a moment or two without any response. As I was about to give up, a painstakingly slow and feeble pulse suddenly met my fingertips. I ran to the phone and called an ambulance.

My mother and I waited anxiously in the waiting room. I was surprised to see her eyes glassy and eyebrows frowning in concern. In the midst of trying to discern whether my mother had been repossessed by the soul that once dwelled within her or if she was still the empty shell I had grown accustomed to, a nurse called us back. Seeing Julian lying there on the hospital bed depleted the room of happiness, despite the colorful flowers the nurses brought him out of generosity. A nurse took my mother aside and said a few hushed words while I studied my brother quietly. Within a few moments the nurse left us to be alone with him, telling us he would be fine and wake up soon. All was quiet. I was startled by the sound of sniffling. I looked over to see my mother quietly weeping. She caught me looking at her and pulled me into a desperate hug.

I hadn’t hugged her in so long that I was awkward in the embrace. I fixed my eyes on a plant in the corner, studying its every shape and leaf, while my mother smoothed my hair and cried. I hadn’t seen my mother portray a real emotion in such a long time that that it almost felt artificial. My shoulder became wet with her sorry tears. She apologized over and over to me, blaming herself for everything. My silence agreed with her. I couldn’t help but wonder where Rick was. Since Julian was going to be okay, I really didn’t care.

The three of us came back to an empty house that reeked of desolation. Julian didn’t say much of anything the first couple of days; instead, he responded to my attempts at conversation with poignant eyes. My mother threw out all her pills and wine, saying we were getting a fresh start with Rick gone to who knows where. She even threw out Julian’s prescribed anti-depressants after he told her he wouldn’t need them with Rick gone. Julian seemed to fall out of depression within a week. It seemed he was always laughing, trying to drown out the loud memories of Rick trying to drown out his self worth.

Much like we had, the weather changed quite rapidly. Within two weeks it was snowing quite frequently giving us plenty of snow days in from school. It brought a secret joy to me seeing my mom wearing her soft clean hair down so it fell down her back gracefully. The piano filled the house with carefree melodies that flowed from her mind and onto the keys. When she missed a note she just picked up and kept playing. It was obvious Julian had been talking to Eric again from the hours he spent on the phone with “Mind Your Business” followed by a closed door. My mom just smiled when he said he was going out with friends and left in Eric’s car. Though it was blatantly obvious he had a boyfriend, Julian still remained secretive about it.

One cold night, as we were watching a movie in the living room and my mom was read a book in the adjacent kitchen, the phone rang. Julian threw a pillow at me, telling me to get the phone. I refused, throwing the pillow back. Mom smiled as she volunteered herself to answering it, leaving the room. Within moments we heard her yelling, threatening to call the police. Julian and I looked at each other in alarm. “Why would he be calling?” we thought to each other.

A few minutes later, my mom walked in with a strangely familiar look in her eye. A look I hadn’t seen since Rick first married her. I think it was fear, though her voice portrayed strength. We paused the movie. There was silence for a moment. Julian’s voice broke it.

“So?” he asked with his voice slightly higher than it had been a few minutes ago. My mom sighed and sat down in the room with us.

“I told Rick I’d call the police on him.” She said straining confidence. I immediately interrupted.

“Do it! Mom, you have to.” I pleaded. She winced in doubt and her eyes fell to the floor.

“He told me he’d kill me if I do.”

“How can he kill you if he’ll be in jail?” I argued. Julian threw another pillow at me and shot me an angry look. “He’s probably just saying that.” My voice quavered. “He would never kill you, right?” I said, voice quavering.

“Right.” She secured.


The next morning I woke up to an excited Julian yelling my name. I jerked awake and was instantly greeted with big blue eyes.

“Mom called the police and they’re looking for him right now!” he said, his blue eyes sparkling. My stomach lurched. “They told us not to worry. He can’t do anything to hurt us.” He added quickly. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. ‘Oh, and it’s a snow day. Roads are too icy again.” He said as he walked out of the room. I pulled the covers over me and went back to sleep.

I woke up around noon and slowly made my way to the living room. Julian had already taken over the television and my mom was finishing up her book. She smiled up at me and asked if Julian had told me the news. I nodded. She then suggested taking a short walk up to a temporary hot cocoa stand just a few blocks away to get some hot chocolate. Julian and I obliged and we put on our coats and gloves. The cold air bit our noses and the ground crackled beneath us. When we got back home there was a message on our machine. I pushed the play button for us all to hear. It was a police man telling us they found Rick. He was living in a motel about a mile or two away. They had no incriminating evidence so they couldn’t take him in but they wanted her to come down to the station to further investigate the story, just in case. She left. As boredom settled in, I begged Julian to come play with me out in the snow. He grumbled and we went outside.

“There’s not even any snow, it’s all ice.” He said kicking the ground, hands in his pockets. I looked around and made my way to where the car was parked on the curb.
“There’s some over here!” I said, picking up the dirty black snow from the bottom of the car. While I gathered the dirty snow into a little pile, I found a little pair of wire cutters. I waved them to Julian so he’d look at my discovery. He rolled his eyes and went back inside. I slashed through the ugly pile of snow with the curious cutters and ran inside after my brother.

After hours of boredom and countless quarrels with Julian, the phone rang. Since he had lost in Monopoly, he was assigned phony duty. After answering, he yelled at me to turn the television down, his voice cracking mid sentence. I turned it down and looked over at him. His eyes trembled and lips quivered. After the person on the other line was finished speaking, he quietly said thank you, hung up, and stood there frozen.

“Who was it?” I asked curiously. Julian didn’t answer. I saw tears overflowing in his eyes, ready to spill over and drip down a cheek at any second. “What’s wrong?” My stomach turned upside down. Julian looked up at me with big watery eyes. A tear dripped down his cheek.

“Mom’s dead.”


Aunt Michelle came from out of town the next morning to take care of us and take care of funeral plans. The only thing we were told about how she died was that it was a car accident. Her brakes weren’t functioning; she was approaching a red light and she flew into the intersection. Because of the ice, the oncoming cars couldn’t stop in time and crashed into her. She died on the scene. We were unsure of who we were to live with once Aunt Michelle went back home. She couldn’t stay with us, she had a job.

The days between the day she died and the funeral were a depressing blur. People came and went from our house throughout the days, bringing us various food dishes that were never finished. Aunt Michelle let us stay home from school until the funeral. Though the days were agonizing and my insides hollow, I didn’t cry. Perhaps it was because I thought one day she would walk in the door and everything would be okay again. Or maybe I had trained myself to block out pain.

By the day of the funeral, most of the ice had melted and the roads were drivable. We dressed in black and quietly got into our aunt’s car. Neither of us had spoken barely a word since the accident. We followed the procession to the church for the ceremony. There was a beautiful picture of my mom on the casket encircled in flowers. She seemed so young, I barely recognized her. I was numb through the heartrending ceremony. I just kept thinking how impossible it felt, but when I looked into Julian’s face it became a harsh reality. We endured thousands of hugs and kisses from relatives, many whom we barely knew and some still who we didn’t know at all. We got gifts, or rather, condolences, but they went unnoticed on a coffee table. We heard questions of who our next legal guardian was. I supposed our grandmother would be that person, though she lived a couple states away. I wouldn’t mind moving.

The procession lead us to the burial site, where we were given a seat in the front row. The wind blew harshly at my legs covered in mere tights as I sat there trying to grip reality. Julian sat still, his eyes fixed on his lap. Moonlight Sonata was playing quietly from a stereo as my mother’s casket was lowered into the desolate ground. Its haunting melody mesmerized me as it did the first time I heard it, giving me chills down my spine. As the casket touched the ground, a knot sprouted from my chest, forcing tears to creep to my eyes. I looked up from the casket at the rows across from us as my eyes weaved through the mass of black, trying to keep my tears balanced in the brim of my eyelids. My heart froze, sending a horrible tremor through my body. A pair of small hateful eyes stared back at me from the third row. I quickly looked away and a tear fell down my cheek. I looked over at Julian; the look in his eye told me he had seen him too. Our nervous eyes met. Another tear fell. I looked back up. Rick slowly shook his head as a malicious sneer crept upon his face. We were trapped.



check out the conclusion of this story under my writing!

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