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Bolatito Oshewa

Bolatito Oshewa


Total Article : 15

About Me:Hi, my name is Tito. I am an thirteen year old student at City of London School for Girls, in the Barbican, London. I love writing for Kings News as it helps me improve my writing skills. I hope you enjoy my articles and find them interesting!

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The Piano

The Piano

The Piano


Sorrowful, the pianist sits alone at the ancient, rusty piano. Deliberately, he tries to drown his sadness in music. Crestfallen, he despondently plays a mournful tune, as if he remembers his painful past. Is this how life is supposed to be? Desolate in the spacious, darkened room, he dejectedly fears that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Death is the only thing he has to look forward to as he is in the darkness; alone. The music is helping; however, he can not escape from his haunting past.

              In addition to already reflecting on his mournful memories, he feels his wife’s presence. Breathless with elation, he carries on playing their favourite tune. It is as if he can smell her floral, exquisite scent and can hear her breathing steadily next to him. Abruptly, he becomes infuriated and enraged. He is an ethical man and has barely ever done anything wrong, so why did his beloved partner have to be taken away from him like this? He loathes living in this cage of sorrow; indestructible, so he can never escape. Never go back to his vibrant times of playing cheerfully as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Hanging his head despondently, a single tear emits from his eye. Her single, gentle kiss brings back their joyous wedding day, but she fading, and it’s like she’s leaving him forever.

                    Before long, another haunting memory forces its way into the pianist’s perplexed mind. Apprehensive, he is anxious for the correct time to leave the remains of the wall that provided him and his brother little shelter. There was jeopardy in the air. Anxiously, he gives his negligent nod; however, it was a signal for death. A death that was not deserved by a caring adolescent. One of many killed in the unnecessary massacre. His brother died in his arms, after the deathly bullet careered towards him, drowning him in guilt. Goosebumps go through his entire body. He reluctantly took his brother, who was helpless like a dead fish, away from the murderous, malicious battlefield.

                         Euphoric, he remembers the invigorating present that was used to provide him hours of ecstasy for years to come. As he opens the box ( as bright as the sunny skies of an exquisite summer’s day) anticipation spreads across his delighted face. Eagerly, he takes out the ancient hobby-horse that was hidden within, Immediately, he was sucked up into a world of cowboys and jockeys. Tears of joy streamed down happy face. He loved his hobby horse. Just like he loved his brother. And his wife.

                 The pianist sits and ponders. This is his life. He should enjoy it. Life is all about love and happiness. He has experienced life’s most important things. And he should live it well. It won’t last long.


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