Wings

Lost in the Music

~~"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." ~VictorHugo~~

At first it was quiet. I was alone in an unfamiliar building. I had no idea how I had gotten there or why I was even there in the first place. My head turned to try and find an exit, but there were no doors or windows. A voice in my head told me that something bad was going to happen. I needed to leave, but there was no way out.

My eyes looked up to the ceiling above me and I saw that there were no holes or cracks. There was no way out. My breathing quickened and my heart beat faster. I heard something in the distance and strained my senses to hear it better. I heard it again, a crackling noise.

Suddenly the noise grew louder and louder. Without warning, the room burst into bright red flame. The room became hot and the air was dry. Each breath was agonizing as the air was polluted with fire and smoke. My lungs craved fresh air and water, but the fire had sucked all of the oxygen out of the room, and I started gasping for a breath.

I backed up until I felt a wall behind me. The fire was right in front of me, growing closer and closer.

With what felt like a bucket of water being tossed onto me, I woke up, gasping for air. I was in my room, my face buried in my pillow on my bed. I took a moment to recover my breath and steady my trembling hands.

My previous hope of getting one peaceful night of sleep was vanquished. Every other night since my parents had died; I would have nightmares of being trapped and dieing. I hadn't had one since before my car accident and thought they had gone away. Apparently I was wrong.

It was mostly the same nightmare too; being in a burning room with no way out. Just like my parents had died.

I shook my head. I was not going to start crying again.

I looked at the clock on my bedside table and forgot all about my dream as I realized I was going to be late for school. I rushed into my closet and changed into the first thing my hands found. I brushed the tangles out of my hair, slipped on some shoes, grabbed a cereal bar, and headed out the door.

"There you are," Jack said as I whizzed by him in the kitchen. I was heading for the street to get in my car when I realized my car was wrecked. I still wasn't used to that. "I'll give you a ride," he said.

Jack was a freshman in college now and I was a senior in high school. I missed seeing him in the hallways and talking to him there. He had somehow managed to make school actually somewhat fun. After he graduated, however, the reality of school being a bore came crashing onto me all too soon.

Jack and I made our way outside and I sat down on the passenger seat. There was an awkward pause as Jack sat silently with his jaw clenched. I frowned and then realized what he was waiting for. I fumbled clumsily to put my seat belt on. I could tell Jack was still unsettled from my previous car accident.

Once he knew I was safe, Jack pulled around the street and headed to the school.

As soon as I walked into the school building, the bell rang and I rushed to my locker. I couldn't afford another tardy and I quickly gave a silent prayer that it was another one of my homeroom teacher's coffee days. That way she would be five minutes late, busy making her coffee in the teacher's lounge.

Slamming my locker shut, I turned around with my books in my hands and practically jogged to my homeroom. I carefully slid in the classroom and gave a sigh of relief when I saw that the teacher wasn't anywhere in sight.

No one seemed to have noticed my late arrival. This made the hollow spot in my chest feel a little tighter. It would be nice to have someone who cared. Back before my parents' death, I had plenty of friends. Even though I lived in the same district as before, those friends had long since disappeared. I had shut them out and after months of not talking to them, they simply moved on just like everyone else. Everyone that was, except for me.