A Tale of a Flutist
There was always a level of conceit surrounding the girl, especially after being named the best fluetist in the world at a young age. Her parents often said she had been born with a flute in hand, lips pursed and a lung full of air.
Now the girl is 22. Her fame had long since faded, as had her girlish charm. Many still remembered her as the child prodigy, which gave her certain allowances, although her talent had never progressed or grown since she was a child. In her young diva mind, she was as good as she needed to be and no improvement on her skill was needed. She took criticism badly, throwing temper tantrums and telling the critics that they were wrong for not understanding her perfect musical talent.
To her added benefit, she had also grown up to be a beautiful girl. Her hair was a shiny flowing mahogany, and her eyes were the bright green of peridot and sparkled when she smiled. Her skin was as though made from fine porcelain. This along with her name meant that any lead was often given to her without hesitation and she was often the even highlight.
Many of her peers gossiped behind her back that it was only her looks that got her the best performances. Many of her biggest critics agreed, even going as far as to suggest that those in charge of the production got to savour the fruits of her sexuality in order for her to secure her position. The gossip and rumours were fueled by the girls sexual nature, which clung to her like a second skin. She was a temptress, and the girl was well aware of it.
Perhaps it was her early fame that drew him to her, or it could of been her striking beauty in young adulthood. Perhaps it was the rumours of her sexual prowess behind closed doors. No one would ever know for certain, because after it all happened they would never see him again.
When it exactly started, many were unsure. There just seemed to be a very ordinary unassuming man sitting in the audience show after show. He often sat as close to the girl as possible, eyes closed whenever she had a solo as to soak in every note. The only thing that the ticket sales clerks and ushers would recall after was that he was insistent on his seating choice, and that the most remarkable thing about the man was that he was completely and utterly unremarkable. None of them could recall what he looked like, not even his eye or hair colour.
After a while a single tulip would appear on her flute case after each performance. The girl loved the secret attention, and made sure everyone knew that someone realized how talented and special she still was. No one else got a tulip. Even when it escalated into his breaking into her home to leave her gifts and letters confessing how he loved to watch her sleep, the girl still reveled in the attention. The girl ignored the advice of her peers, stating that he just wanted to enjoy her talent and beauty. She refused to go to the police. She had no intention of letting go of her admirer, going as far as to storm out of a performance when she realized that security had been doubled in order to catch her stalker. She insisted he was not a stalker, that he was the only one who understood her. She referred to the letters, how intimate they were. How well he knew her. She went as far as to insist that he was the only man who truly loved her.
Months went by, and the girl became more withdrawn. She lived only for her admirer. If there was no tulip waiting for her or a note left on her bed when she woke, the girl would become depressed and refuse to perform. Eventually as time went by no one would hire her. She had crossed the unpredictability line and there were far more talented flutists to take her place. In some ways many were relieved not to work with her. They found her alienation to be a blessing.
She waited for him.
There was no evidence of a struggle when he eventually came back for her. It was obvious she went willingly with him. When they found her in a shallow grave under a large tree in an open field, they found to the horror of all involved that the ropes that bound her in the most contorted and obscene positions were done of her own volition. It was suspected that the sexual intercourse which had occurred was also consensual.
Her flute had been left inside her vagina after she died. She had no dignity in death, just multiple stab wounds. No drugs were found in her system. It was if she had willingly surrendered her life to him.
As for the man, he was never found. He returned to his average life as the unexceptional man, left to reminisce about his one extraordinary night of perfection with his flutist.