Harmony (ON HOLD)

Chapter 4

It has been two long, dreary weeks since Harry found me in his room. I would always say good morning to him and good night. Sometimes, I would even bravely ask how he was doing. I figured he was so terribly rude all the time because no one bothered to be kind to him. However, he never replied to me. Not once has he spoken to me, or acknowledged my presence in anyway except one morning when he challenged again me to tell him my name, which still was unknown to me.

Benji had given me two more of his grandmother’s nightgowns and soft cardigans. They all looked exactly the same as the first set. Every morning I would get breakfast, Harry would leave to do his mysterious work (sometimes Benji went with him), then I would sit at the piano and play until lunch. Martha and I would eat lunch together, sometimes in silence. After lunch I would continue playing to piano or I would read a book out of Benji’s library, until dinner time. After dinner, and Harry’s continuous rudeness, I would shower and sing the tune I was familiar with.

All that to say, I was ready for a change of scenery, a change of postion. Same clothes, same meal, same house, same routine. Nothing changed. I didn’t regain my memory, to my frustration. I was stuck in a cycle of a repetition and I was more than ready to break free.

I walked into Benji's library, his shelves of books starting from the darkened wood of the floor reaching to the beams of the dark ceiling. My small hand reached for a favorite of mine, a Shakespearean classic.

Romeo and Juliet.

I turned around and was startled by two male bodies conversing in the corner. The old book fell to the floor with a thud.

Their necks turned to see me. Benji gave me a small smile. Harry just glared, as usual. I quickly gathered my graces and knelt down to retrieve the object I carelessly dropped.

My eye caught a sleek looking object on the Benji's desk. Instinctively, I walked over to it and picked it up, only for it to be snatched out of my hand within a few seconds.

"Don't touch it." Harry gritted as he put his ipod into his back pocket. He walked out of the room with a huff.

Benji shook his head as he stepped towards me.

"Never touch Harry's ipod. He's so defensive about that thing, yet I've never even see him use it." 

Why was he so defensive about an object he didn't even use? My mind was left with a hundred more questions about Harry.

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I sat at the table, as bread and broth were placed in front of me. I noticed the broth had orange chunks floating around in it. Mostly, this chicken broth was my dinner every night. However, Harry often told Martha to add a vegetable to the miserable soup. Last night I had celery pieces in it.

There were a couple times were I received a small portion of what Benji, Harry, and Martha ate for dinner.

Tonight, I was not so lucky. I sat there trying to sip the familiar, bland soup when my head began to hurt. I felt a pulsing sensation, my hand instinctively went to the left side, where my injury had been healing.

“Dear, are you okay?” Martha had grown accustomed to calling me ‘dear’ in place of my name, whatever it was.

I simply nodded.

“Are you sure?” She got up and walked around the wooden table, arriving right behind my seat. Her warm hand was placed on my shoulder.

“Martha, stop asking.” Harry growled. He was so insensitive, so rude.