"Penny for your thoughts?"
"Huh?" Tyler says, snapping back into reality.
"What are you thinking about? You seem really out of it lately."
"I am. My mind has been all over the place. Like right now, I can't seem to get this stupid song out of my head." He mumbles.
"What song?"
"Window by The Album Leaf," he states. "You know that one?"
"I think I may have heard it once or twice."
"It's as if I can actually hear it though. As if it's being played aloud. It's not just in my head... 'Then those who sing as well as those who play the flutes shall say "All my springs of joy are in you. - Psalm 87:7"
Over the years, Tyler has developed a habit of relating every situation to a Bible verse. Thousands of verses are implanted into his brain, waiting to be spoken. Why he did this, he didn't know.
"Maybe some sleep will get it out your head. You've been getting barely any and I'm worried about you because you've been acting really... odd. Take care of yourself."
"Yeah... yeah thanks, Zack."
Zack gives him a sympathetic smile and heads out of his room, shutting the door behind him.
Tyler sighs and rubs his face, widening his eyes before blinking a few times.
He sits at his desk and turns on the lamp, pointing it towards his notebook.
He had already written the verse of a new song he's been working on, but still has no music to go with it. The rhythm wouldn't come to him.
Then after a few minutes, he realised he'd been tapping his pen on his lip to the sound of a tap dripping. And that's how he wanted it to start of sounding.
As he began to write a few notes down, a swarm of colours entered his vision, almost as if he was painting instead.
Why was he seeing colours and where was the tap that was dripping?
After several minutes of hearing the same noise, Tyler grew very irritable.
"Will somebody please turn that freaking tap off?!"
"Who said that?!" A deep voice spoke with a tone of panic.
"Who said that?!" Tyler replied.
"Holy fuck," the other voice chuckled.
The sound of cuss words made Tyler uncomfortable. Like an itchy sweater or a bed with a thin mattress. That kind of uncomfortable.
Silence filled the room and Tyler got back to writing, trying to forget what just happened.
"Change the D to a B," the voice interrupted abruptly, startling Tyler and causing him to hit his head on the lamp.
Both Tyler and the unknown voice yell in pain.
"What the fuck is your lamp made out of, stone? Jesus!"
