《Phantom Sonata》 A Mans Silhouette I clench my fists after pressing them firmly against the sink, while gazing at my reflection in the mirror. My heart is beating fast. The past two years had been like hell for me, everything was bright as that day, not until our car suddenly, without warning, fell off the cliff, plummeting into the abyss below. My younger brother, Thomas, used to love plants, trees, creeks, and nature. Countless times he came home with either wet body as a result of mindlessly playing on a creek nearby home or hands full of earth. He was a silly but clever boy, and I loved him dearly, as did my mom. The day we had decided to go on a hike for Thomas¡¯ request for his tenth birthday is also the day I lost him and mom. I was on the backseat, the car on fire. Thomas and mom were drenching on blood, lifeless. The music melody that had once intertwined with our shared moments just a minute ago still dance through the air, vibrant, and alive, but neither of them is, anymore. For the first time in my life, I felt alone, I was engulfed by a sense of utter helplessness, like drowning in a sea of uncertainty with no lifeline to grasp onto. That accident was just a blink of an eye but the scar it left on my heart will remain all my life or forever. A sudden vibration brings me back to the present, adding up another bucket to my anxiety. ¡°Your dad will call you tomorrow morning, Christine.¡± The exact words echo in my mind from our aunt¡¯s conversation last night. Just then, my phone begins to ring in my pocket ¡ª it¡¯s really him. He¡¯s a well-respected lawyer and entrepreneur, but I haven¡¯t been with with him since he flew away to New Zealand ten years ago when I was still nine. He wasn¡¯t there, when my mom gave birth to Thomas, my highschool graduation, their marriage anniverssaries, and the time his family was drenching on blood. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. After the accident, all I had was my aunt Shiella. Somehow, she gave me hope. She had always been kind-hearted to us, even before accident, but now she has to leave as she needs to move to another country with her new family. It was thanks to her I managed to survived mentally after everything that happened, keeping me from losing my sanity. My father, Victor Romerio, on the other hand, is finally returning after being away for a long time. It seems he is now doing his best to make up for all that he had missed with his family even it is now, in fact, broken. It may be too late, but I still appreciate him for that. ¡°Honey, how are you? Have you arrived at the university already?¡±, he utters. I sigh and then dully reply. ¡°I¡¯m doing well, Victor.¡± Despite my attempts to move on, I can¡¯t shake the feeling of resentment that my own father wasn¡¯t there for me during the days, weeks, and months following that unfortunate event. I can¡¯t bring myself to call him ¡®dad¡¯ like I used to, and I barely recognize his face anymore. "Listen, my dear, I understand I''ve let you down, and I owe you so much for everything that''s happened. I know I''ve been the worst father, but please believe me when I say I won''t be away from you anymore. From this moment on, I''m here for you." ¡°You¡¯ve got to move on, dear. I know it¡¯s hard for us¡­¡±, he added before I shut it out. I close my eyes tightly, and begin fluttering my eyelids, trying to stop my eyes from tearing up and then bring back my phone in my pocket. Maybe he¡¯s right. Perhaps all this time I¡¯ve been burying myself in a deep grave. Suddenly, the door swings open, its hinges emitting a wide, eerie creak that rumbles through the restroom where I''ve been since my arrival at the university. A silhouette of a tall and fairly lean-looking man reflects in the mirror. This time, I tried to tilt my head back as I brush off some tears from my eyes. ¡°Hello?¡±, I mumble softly. The figure starts to run away, which startles me. I take huge steps hurriedly to the door, eager to see who was there seconds ago. Yet as I reach the threshold, I am met only with dimness and silence. I inhale deeply and shrug it off. Velhomn University The sound of water trickling down soothes me. As the dawn casts its gentle light, I find myself sitting on a bench, drawn to the serene atmosphere. My feet led me to a nearby water fountain. Despite having arrived just half an hour ago, I¡¯m already starting to appreciate everything here. I stand up and take a leisurely stroll. We moved out to Europe three weeks ago. It¡¯s autumn season, the trees ablaze with fiery hues and the crisp air carries the earthly scent of fallen leaves. Just when I was a child, I dreamt of experiencing autumn with my family. Now, I feel relieved that I, at least, experienced it with myself. I look around, and analyze my surroundings. It¡¯s Velhomn University, widely-known for producing excellent artists and musicians. Most of its place is housed in centuries-old buildings that exude a sense of grandeur and prestige. The cobblestone street on my left is lined with quaint gas lamps, their soft radiance trace the path of the winding street and blends with the soft hues of dawn. The university surroundings gradually fills with activity. There is a buzz of energy as groups of friends gather, exchanging greetings. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts from a university caf¨¦ as I pass by. I glance at my silver watch, a parting gift from my aunt before she left. It¡¯s quarter to eight, just thirty minutes before our first class. My left hand instinctively reaches into my shoulder bag, searching for the folded campus map the orientation leader had given me earlier. But as I rummage through my bag, a sinking feeling washes over me¡ªI left it in the restroom. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. My feet quicken their pace as I hope against hope that it¡¯s still there when I return. I can''t afford to lose it; my class schedule is stapled to that map, and I can''t be late for my first class. Finally, I arrive at the Shelhom¡¯s Building of Architecture and Fine Arts, as indicated by the old-looking yet sculptured signage. Ignoring the long queue for the elevator, I opt for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Despite the strain in my chest, I take a glance on the artworks adorning the walls with impressionistic artworks including rich oil paintings framed in gold, depicting scenes with mythological gods. Among these paintings are timeless sculptures and statues, carved from pristine marble. The renaissance interior design of the building provide some solace. The hallway is filled by the sound of my sandals rushing towards the restroom. I begin opening the door, it must be somewhere here. After a moment of searching, I sigh and begin to hold the doorknob empty-handed attempting to leave already. Doesn¡¯t matter, I¡¯ll just go to the university information desk. ¡°Looking for this?¡±, a deep and velvety voice queried. I stop for a moment and tilt my head back. My heart pounds seeing a tall, ginger man casually propped against the restroom cubicle with legs crossed. His eyes are the color of the nocturnal heavens, his wide grin reveals a prominent incisors, reminiscent of bunny teeth. ¡°I think you dropped this on the hallway just outsi-¡° ¡°Since when men are allowed in women¡¯s restroom?¡± I cut in. ¡°Since, uh, the moment you realized that this is an entirely abandoned restroom.¡±, he replied, looking away, his grin still intact. For the first time, I look around inside. He¡¯s kind of right. This restroom appears old and abandoned but still functional enough to be used. Perhaps it¡¯s just hidden away at the end of the hallway, away from public view. But it doesn''t change the fact that this restroom is still designated for women, and his presence here isn¡¯t appropriate. ¡°I¡¯m Alejandro, by the way.¡± ¡°Stop it Mr. Alejandro-intruder, give it back.¡±, I reply firmly and look at the folded campus map currently in his left hand. I step back as he begin to walk towards me. ¡°Sure, Christine¡­ here.¡± Grabbing it rightaway, I begin to leave. The tension between us makes it hard to breathe inside. Before shutting the door, I glance back. He smiles once more, this time without the appearance of his bunny teeth, and wiggles his fingers in a goodbye gesture.