Shattered (Completed)

Chapter 14 - The Creation of Music

Fire does eventually burn out, and when it does, the ember is tired and ready to fall away, but ready to be ignited at the same time. It could go either way. It just really depends on what happens next.

There are three taps on my door. "Hey, Firework, can you let me in? I look stupid standing in the hall," came a deep but feminine voice. Teresa. I can imagine her standing out in the hall, hands in her pockets, chewing gum. 

"Uh. . ." It takes me a moment. Teresa. Come into your room. Out of the hall. The picture comes to mind, but words or meaning is absent.

The door opens without my saying. She's dressed in a dark blue shirt and baggy jeans. I wonder why anyone would wear clothes too big for them on purpose. Does it feel better, not feeling the clothing but having them there?

"You were gonna have me in the hall all day," she grumbles quietly, walking over to me and sitting down across from me on the bed. She left the door open, so what we're talking about is nothing secretive. Wait, no, I saw cameras up in the corners of the room. Nothing we say can be secretive. She begins with a sigh and pop of a bubble. "I wanted to formally introduce myself. . . and everything you don't understand." Teresa pauses and sighs once more. "Florence said it would make you feel more welcome here, and that having the most moody person in the world do it would help."

"Oh?" I reply, leaning back against the wall. I let my head absorb the coldness of the wall, and I feel it chilling my ember, turning it from red to a little small bit of red, something that you would only put half credit into trying to avoid stepping on, whereas a full, glowing ember would be avoided with concentration. Yet still, I could burn a building down if desired.

The bed is still a wreck. I literally burned a half-circle out of it, so my legs hang off the edge. Teresa made it so that she sat on the part of the bed that was untouched with her foot tucked beneath her. Unfortunately, I still don't regret anything. But maybe that's just the lingering heat talking. 

"Yeah," Teresa replies flatly, shrugging. "So let's get this over with." And with this, she takes a deep breath, beginning her story. 

"My name is Teresa Blangeth. My father was a Moonhit, too. They called him the timekeeper, because he could stop time whenever he wanted, or go further in time, or back, whatever. It's what killed him. One day, he went so forward in time that it either killed him or he went to his death or before his existence, I think he wanted to meet his mom, who died while giving birth. . . I'm still not sure. But he's dead, and Mom. . . well, she left, so I'm not sure what's happening with her."

"Are you in the least bit concerned about her?" I ask quietly, lifting an eyebrow.

"Ah. . . No, not really. She left me when I was seven, so, I mean, I don't really care. . . She lied all the time, and she drank. She didn't mean anything to me, to say the least." Teresa blows a bubble and I know that the exact opposite is the truth. "Anyway, yeah, I didn't fail, they just thought I was too strong, like you. So they put me away in a Cylinder for three months until Mister Florence got me." She pauses to roll her eyes. "Moonhit Co. is an idiot. They want us to die,"

"I thought the point was that they don't," I add hesitantly. "I mean, like. . . they gave me chemicals to keep me alive and stuff. The Downing, am I right?"

Teresa raises an eyebrow at me. "What? What do you mean?" She shakes her head and leans back as well, moving her legs so that they're out in front of her. I tuck my foot under myself and find that I will sit like this forever. "No, they expect us to die. They expect us to starve or dehydrate or something. I would have died if I had another day in there. What was different with you?"

"I got a glimpse of. . . well, reality, I guess. And it showed Lindsay and Daniel - two scientists - and they were talking about my vitals and how they'd keep my alive until I died." I pause. Maybe I had just been dreaming, right? No, Florence said he had put the Awakening in the air. So that had been reality. "The scientists actually did want me alive," I add absently.

"No way," Teresa says casually, as if this isn't news to her, "I mean, they don't want Moonhit's that are idiots or can destroy the planet. You and I are both." She winks. "Anyway, why do you think they'd want to keep you alive and not me?"

I shrug. "I'll put it under my list of questions for Florence," I say. A grin creeps up onto my lips.

Mentally, I decide to make a list of all the questions for Florence with answers beside them in the next page of my notebook. . . and add recent events. Later, though. For now I'm getting all the answers I can from Teresa. 

She nods, then grabs something from her pocket. A box. "Mister Florence got this for you. He said it would help you with your anger and, if the ink ever came off, the voices," She watches me take it, her deep brown eyes studying my every movement. Then she looks up at me. "You were great at the mission, I gotta say. For being awoken a few days ago, you were a master. I really wonder what you had for breakfast and, whatever it was, if I can have some."

The joke is old, I can tell, because even she doesn't grin as she tells it. But as I open the box, she loses her words and looks down. A small box with a screen and white things with chords that look like the earpiece Wayne got, just smaller. When I look up at Teresa with a questioning look, her jaw drops.

"You don't know what this is?" she asks, eyes wide. "Dude, that's, like, the only mp7 in stock right now. These things are expensive." She shakes her head, seeming bewildered, as she takes out the mp7 and attaches the earpiece-looking things to a hole in its side. Then she grins at me. "What song do you like?"

"U-Uh. . ." I had never heard a song before. Well, I probably had, but I don't remember them or anything. The thought saddens me. Were songs good? Something I liked? 

"We'll do 'The Judge (anyone?)' It may be old, but no one's had the time to make new music." She shrugs and hits a button on the mp7. The screen lights up and from it shoots a blue screen, lighting up the area above it. A keyboard is under it, and then the screen is above it with a long rectangle. When Teresa hits keys, the keys she hits appears on the screen. Interesting.

The words 'The Judge' end up in the box. She hits Enter and a few results pop up. She clicks one, gives me an earpiece and herself one, and we listen. It begins with a beautiful instrument being strum, and then na na na na's and oh's, then words:

"When the leader of the bad guys sang,
Something soft and soaked in pain,
I heard the echo from his secret hideaway.
He musta forgot to close his door,
as he cranked out those dismal chords.
And his four walls declared him insane.
I found my way, right time wrong place,
as I pled my caaaase. . .
You're the Judge, oh no, 
Set me freeeee."

When this repeats, I grin. This sounds amazing. I love the sounds it makes and the voice and everything about it is just hypnotic. Eventually the song gets to a decently fast part, and Teresa sings every word.

"Three lights are lit, but the first one's out,
I can tell cause it's a bit darker than the last night's bout,
I forgot about the drought of light bulbs in this house so I head out,
Down a route I think is heading south.
But I'm not good with directions, and I hide behind my mouth.
I'm a pro at imperfections and I'm best friends with my doubt
And now that my mind is out and now I hear it clear and loud I'm thinking,
'Wow, I probably should have stayed inside my house."

Eventually the song comes to a wonderful end. The instrument - the name comes to my mind, a ukulele - comes to a halt as well. It's beautiful. 

Teresa lets out a breath, taking the earpiece out. She points to it. "This is an earbud." She points to mine, the one crackling with an absence of sound. "That's also an earbud. So together, they're just earbuds. And then this - " She holds up the mp7. " - is an mp7, and all you do is hit the middle button and you can listen to any song you want. You need earbuds, though, else it doesn't work." When she's done explaining, she hands me the earbud. Then she grins at my hair. "That's a  bright shade of yellow you got there." And I cross my eyes, looking at a strand of hair that fell from behind my ear it find it pulsing with yellow. I grunt and blow it away. "Did you like that song?"

I pause. My ember had been dim, and with that question, with that song, it had diminished entirely. 

"Yeah," I say with a grin, putting the earbuds in again and leaning back. She gets up. "I liked it a lot. Thanks," She pats my back and, with a small wink, leaves.

Fire does eventually burn out, and when it does, the ember is tired and ready to fall away, but ready to be ignited at the same time. It could go either way. It just really depends on what happens next.