cap 5
647 Words
Sunan no longer resembled the prodigy the world once remembered.
His body sat in front of the piano, in the same position as always, his back straight and his hands resting on the keys.
But his mind seemed very far away from there.
Very far from that concrete room.
Very far from that piano.
His red eyes, which once looked like galaxies filled with light and motion, were now dim.
They were still red, yes.
But it was a dark, deep red, without any shine.
Like stars that had stopped burning a long time ago.
In one of his eyes, the small star-shaped mark could still be seen.
That mark which once made many people say he looked like a child born to shine.
Now even that star seemed to be losing its light.
His gaze no longer searched for anything.
It did not follow people’s movements.
It did not react to the sound of doors, voices, or footsteps.
He looked…
but it was as if he was not truly seeing.
His skin, which once had been pale and flawless, was now neglected and mistreated.
Small bruises, thin scars, and old marks covered his arms and part of his neck.
Some had already faded with time.
Others were still there.
Like silent reminders of the years he had spent imprisoned.
His hands, which once had been the hands of a prodigy, no longer had the same delicacy.
They could still play.
They could still press each key with precision.
But now they trembled slightly whenever they rested for too long.
His pink lips, which once had color and life, were now dry and cracked.
The soft tone they once had had disappeared years ago.
Now they were pale.
Almost without color.
Almost without life.
The silver hair that once shone under the lights of the stage was now dull and messy.
The strands fell carelessly over his forehead and neck.
They no longer had that soft glow that once reflected the light.
Now his hair looked darker.
Heavier.
As if even he had forgotten how to take care of himself.
The clothes he wore were simple.
Worn by time.
The place where he lived knew nothing of elegant stages or applause.
It only knew silence.
And waiting.
Sometimes Sunan remained seated in front of the piano for hours without moving.
Without playing a single note.
Without lifting his gaze.
He looked like a forgotten statue in the middle of the room.
A body present.
But a soul lost somewhere very far away from that place.
Sunan rarely spoke.
Words had become strange to him.
As if they belonged to another language.
Another world.
Sometimes entire days passed without him saying a single sentence.
Without him making a single sound.
He barely reacted to anything.
Not to orders.
Not to shouting.
Not to blows.
Mario could enter the room and demand that he play.
He could shout.
He could insult him.
He could even slam the piano in fury.
But most of the time Sunan would only slowly lift his gaze.
And look at him in silence.
With those dim eyes that no longer reflected emotion.
No fear.
No anger.
No hope.
Only emptiness.
The prodigy’s sanity had not broken all at once.
It was not a sudden moment.
It had shattered slowly.
Day after day.
Year after year.
Ten long years of silence, captivity, and loneliness had eroded his mind the way water slowly wears down stone.
First, hope disappeared.
Then curiosity.
Then the desire to resist.
Until finally…
even thought itself disappeared.
And now…
the only thing left sitting in front of the piano
was a shadow.
A shadow of the boy who had once been admired by the world.
A shadow of the prodigy who had filled theaters with his music.
A shadow of the boy who had once been called
the king of music.
- Writer
