𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 - 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬

thirty three | a murder of woes

-THIRTY THREE-

Juniper was angry, to say the least. She was angry that her life had fallen apart, angry that Wednesday had gone back on her own commitment to fix things, angry that Xavier was now in jail. She was shocked that her own life had suddenly taken such a turn after Wednesday's arrival. And it was not completely a very pleasant turn.

She stormed out of the shed, head throbbing, unable to fathom or process what had happened. She needed release, she needed help, she needed a parent.

There it was, the spiralling. One thought led to another, each one more depressing than the last. Each one weighing down on her like a boulder.

She wanted to scream, to shout, to burn the world down. But at the same time she wanted to sit, to cry, wait for some princess to come on a white stallion and save her as if it was a movie.

'No,' she though firmly to herself. 'I refuse. I refuse to be so jumbled. I refuse to be so helpless. I can do this, I've got this. Things are going to work out for me. If they don't, I'll make things work for me.'

However, truth be told, she wasn't sure if she was setting a goal, or reassuring herself.

Her feet carried her to the music room, where the grand piano stood. The room was dark, expect for the sliver of moonlight falling across the majestic instrument's glossy surface. It stood like a painting, with the floor-to-ceiling high crystal glass windows behind it, with the balcony spanning across.

The dark night sky was a deep navy blue beyond the pristine glass, and the castle's silhouette looked hauntingly beautiful, with slight dots of yellow here and there, revealing where each night owl lay awake.

Her gaze landed on the spidery glass window of Ophelia Hall, feeling a pang of sadness and hurt as she remembered playing her unintentional duet with Wednesday so many nights ago.

If only she'd known then what would happen to her now, then she'd have never indulged or strengthened her feelings towards the black-haired goth.

Kelpie meowed loudly, the sound echoing through the huge room and bringing her back to reality.

"I don't still love her," sighed Juniper. "She broke my heart, my trust, and my life. Why on earth would I still let her have such a hold on my feelings?"

The cat practically shrugged his shoulders and settled under the stool, while she first opened the hood of the piano to amplify the sound, and slowly pushed the cover lid up, revealing the milky white keys.

Her eyes closed as she placed her hands on the keyboard gently, inhaling deeply before she began to play a sad, dreamy tune.

The music room filled with the sound of Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie, the deep tones of the bass chords reverberating around, while the melody broke through it sweetly. She played it with such feeling, and such dynamic, that those who lay awake stood at their windows and balconies, ears trained into the cold night air as they listened to the midnight concert.

Larissa Weems, in her office not very far down the hall, inhaled deeply and sat back in her chair, remembering her school days when Juniper's mother, Marceline, used to play the piano. It was almost like she used to have Symphokinesis; the power of music and sound. Weems remembered how whenever the witch used to play, passers-by would stop and listen, being able to feel whatever emotion she was putting as she played.