Isabelle Desjardines was an excellent musician. She could play 20 different instruments as a professional, but she was best at the piano. She could play Mozart, Beethoven and Bach. She could even write her own pieces!
One night, after dinner, she came upstairs, down the hall and into the small room with her baby grand piano in it. She sat down at her piano and rolled up her sleeves. She flipped through her thick 600 page book filled with sheet music for the piano and settled on Beethoven, Moonlight Sonata.
She then started with a few chords. She would go up and down the scale, down and up, and then she was ready, her fingers warm.
Just then, she felt someone breathing on the back of her neck. She spun around but to find no one there, only her window was open. She stood to close it, but before she shut the window, she looked outside.
Standing in front of her home was a man dressed in all black. He had his back facing towards her, but he sent shivers down her spine.
She shut her window and locked it. She then closed the silk curtains.
She sat back down at her piano. She was ready.
She began. Her fingers pressing down on the keys gracefully and gliding over them to the next. It wasn’t a very difficult piece for her, but she still loved the music so much it brought her so much joy. It was very calming and relaxing, and if you were watching her, you would have been mesmerized by her fingers pressing the keys perfectly on time. She would turn the page perfectly with one hand without having to pause at all.
She opened her eyes halfway through the song. The faster part is where she has some difficulty. It started to go so fast, one hand went back and forth between notes and the other pressed others at record speed. Then one hand slowed down but the other continued with its million miles an hour section.
She started to get the hang of the section, just like she always did and she started to smile. It’s the best part of the song.
Then she did what she’s never done before. She hit a wrong note. She stopped everything and looked down to the left side of the piano. Just next to where her hand was, a key was pressed down. But she was not pressing it. She looked closer and it and she pressed down on it quickly. The key sprang back up and the long deep note stopped.
She sighed and made a mental note to get that key fixed if it was sticking. She turned the pages back and restarted the section. The same thing happened. The same key in the same measure.
She felt someone breathing down her neck and she turned around. Her window was open again. She looked outside, but the man was gone. She closed her window and the curtains for a second time. She continued with her piece, managing to get past the sticking key, and she felt the wind on her back again. She tried to ignore it, but it got colder and colder, so she had no choice but to close the window for hopefully the last time.
She turned around and screamed with surprise.
“Oh I’m sorry, Isabelle,” the man said, backing up, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s quite alright, just knock before you enter please,” Isabelle said, recovering quickly from her scare.
“I didn’t want to disturb you while you were playing,” the man walked around the piano to sit on the black couch facing her.
“Don’t worry about that,” Isabelle turned the pages of her music to the very beginning.
“May I listen?”
“I suppose so, since I can’t really tell you to leave,” she nodded and began.
She played the beginning perfectly, without any flaws. Then she moved on to the second part, and finally the faster part. The look in her face is of pure concentration, and as she neared the part where the key sticks, she watched her hand to make sure she’s not pressing it.
She got closer and closer to it when it happened. She was watching her hand and her fingers weren’t even close when it was pressed down. The key pressed itself down!
The stopped and scooted away from the left side of the piano. She looked up to the man sitting on the couch but he wasn’t there. She looked back to the key and there he was, pressing it down.
Isabelle stood and started to back away from the man who was only staring at the key he was pressing down.
The man looked up at Isabelle then and he smiled.
“Beautiful piece,” he started to slowly walk towards her and she slowly started to back up towards the door.
The man passed the keys and the sheet paper flew everywhere as the window slid open. Wind blew into the small room and the piano started to play Moonlight Sonata all by itself. The man ran his hand over the shiny black baby grand piano as he got closer to Isabelle. She fumbled for the door handle and yanked it open. She ran down the hall and into her bedroom. She slammed the door quickly behind her and locked it.
The man walked down the hall casually as the piano continued with its playing. The wind just got stronger as he got closer to her door and all her loose sheet music flew around the room and out the window.
Isabelle was hiding behind her door, listening to the piano and the man’s footsteps. Then she gasped when he was right outside her door. She could see his shadow under the door.
She backed away when he started to knock lightly. She sat on her bed, paralized with fear, while he continued knocking.
Then the knocking stopped when the piano stopped playing.
The next day, Isabelle woke up in the piano room. She thought it was all just a bad dream, but the room was a mess. After cleaning it all up she remembered that she lives alone and she’s never seen that man before in her life.