A New Beginning

Category B: Highly Commended (2025) Monash Short Story Writing Competition
Author: Demi Vlahos

The grand piano loomed before her, its polished mahogany gleaming in the dim light of the recital hall.  Rows of unfamiliar faces stretched endlessly before her, their watchful eyes fixed upon her.  A part of her wanted to run.  Longed to scream and to crumple into the floor; to erase this moment from existence. Yet she stood there alone, staring at the instrument. 

She had come here with every intention of walking away.  Of letting go of the forgotten lifeline that clung to the memory of the person she once was.  The person she could no longer bear to hold on to.  Yet she stood there, anchored.  Not by choice but rather her hands were bound by invisible threads of a vow from a past she had long since buried. 

It had been a year since he’d insisted on this competition. “You’ll do great, promise you will try”, he had asked her, his voice steady, full of belief in her talent.  He had always had faith in her, more than she ever dared to have in herself. That faith had once driven her to greatness.  And maybe, even now it held her here, clinging to that promise. 

But now, he was gone.  His absence was a gaping wound that swallowed everything that she was.  His words, once a comforting presence standing beside her, now echoed hollow and broken.  He had been taken from her, ripped away by a darkness she could never truly understand.  With him, her music faded into silence.  Her music became empty, like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. She had abandoned her piano.  Abandoned the parts of herself that had once dared to hope, to dream.  Who was alive and now all that was left was this hollow ache where her heart used to beat.

Now, her hands trembled before the piano, fear coursing through her as she found herself on the precipice of the promise she had made to him.  Slowly, she lifted the piano lid as if to find something to stop her, something to tell her she didn’t have to do this. But nothing came.  She tested the pedals, the familiar resistance both comforting and painful. She had loved to play once. God, she had loved it. The way music could shatter her yet put her back together. The way it could make everything seem possible again. Heroic. She had loved it. But that was before.

Her fingers hovered above the keys and deep sadness coursed through her. She began at the lower notes. The sound was deep and throbbing.  Full of sorrow and anger.  

And then it came, gingerly.  With one hand she wove out a simple, slow melody.  Echoes of memories arising out of the void of her mind.  The room was so silent that the music felt obtrusive.  She moved across the flats and sharps, playing a broken melody, one she had known by heart.  It became a fragment, a dark shadow of the piece she once played for him, now no more than a mournful lament. The notes hung in the air, too afraid to fill the silence completely.  Each note an echo from her former self, each one a promise she had made.

She was surprised to find her hands didn’t shake. Surprised to find that someone, someone, was still there, listening as she played. 

The piano came alive beneath her fingers.  Its voice growing louder, more insistent, more true. She no longer thought about the motions of playing, rather the music was moving through her.  It rose from some deep, forgotten well in her soul, filling the hollow spaces that became dry in sorrow.

A shrill note rang out.  Echoing into the empty room.  Echoing all the way into a forgotten place in her soul.  It was as though the piano itself was weeping.  Weeping for her.  Weeping with her and in that moment, she realized how long it had been since she had allowed herself to grieve.

Each note carried what could never be said with words; of sorrow, love and everything that had been left unsaid.  A vow to him, to the past and to the part of her that refused to let go.  As she played, something inside her began to shift.

The sorrow, the grief, the pain; they no longer felt like burdens. The music had begun to heal, began to forgive her for abandoning it, for abandoning herself.  She played the unspeakable things that had festered inside her; the memories buried deep within.  Each note wove through the air like threads of grief, anger, love and pain, weaving her back into one.  All she knew now was the rhythm of the music that surged through her as though it had never left.

Then, the final chord. She let it linger; let it hang in the air like a firefly lighting the night sky.  The music faded and she was left floating beside the firefly. The world, once dark, now shimmered with a fragile sense of hope.

And then, the silence shattered.  A soft sound, hesitant then louder and louder until the entire room stood, cheering, lost in bewildered disbelief.  She hadn’t seen them, hadn’t heard them, hadn’t even realized the world was still out there until the applause pulled her back to the physical world. She looked out, her eyes wide as if waking from a dream. 

The applause surged around her, not for perfection, but for something deeper. For the transparency in each note. She hadn’t played for them. She had played for him. For herself. For the part of her that still lived and had chosen to stay, even when the grief and fear felt too unbearable. His faith that had brought her back to the piano. And it had brought her home.

As the applause filled her, she allowed herself to smile, a small and fragile thing.

But it was a start.

It was a new beginning.