Lost in a world of his own, trying to block out the words that he could hear in his mind, Morgan sat, his eyes focused on the woman sitting across from him. Her eyes were a bright blue colour, these eyes had comforted him and she was all he had left. Groups of people in twos and threes talked at different tables in the room.
"I've made it quite clear" Morgan furrowed his eyebrows, finding it hard to concentrate. "I can't sit here and talk, the piano is calling me."
"Dad" the woman spoke, her voice nervous and pleading, " you know I only get to visit the nursing home once a week, my job keeps me so busy, can't you stay and talk" She loved her father with every fibre of her being but she couldn't help but be upset when all he did was play piano. He says he hears voices, that they only go away while he plays melodies on his piano. She thought it was an excuse. She couldn't take it.
Morgan looked into her eyes. "I have to go" He stood up, "Until next week Rose" He walked away, towards the music room. Roses eyes closed, she furrowed her eyebrows, creases spreading through her face. A nurse placed her hand on Rose's back. "He does love you. I can promise you that." Rose nodded but still tears streamed down her pale face. "Send him my love" she choked out as she walked towards the door. Until next week she reassured herself.
As Morgan began to play, a beautiful sound erupted from the piano. It sounded beautiful. Keys of ivory white and smaller keys of charcoal black danced under his aged hands.
He stops playing and smiles. He turns, satisfied. A lady enters the room, she is clothed in a dress, looking like something from the Victorian era perhaps. She opens her mouth to speak. "They're after you Morgan." His eyes widen. "The nurses are after you, to torture you. That's their plan. They will hurt you." Morgan presses his hands to his ears to block out the voice. The woman disappeared. Morgan didn't see her leave but she was gone.
This was a frequent occurrence in his life. He never saw the woman leave but she didn't stay for long.The voice never left his head, her raspy voice repeating the same message. She seemed to tease him. The voices only left his head while he played the piano which was why he spent the majority of his time playing it.
Two days later, a man came to tune the piano. Morgan couldn't play it. The voices gnawed at him throughout the day, he was frustrated, not able to concentrate on anything except the message running through his head.
Laying in bed that night, Morgan came to a solution. He got out of bed, the halls of the nursing home were empty. The nurse on the night shift had fallen asleep in her chair and was snoring quietly. He walked towards the kitchen, approached the drawer full of cutlery and withdrew a sharp bread knife. The light of the moon reflected off of it. He walked back to where the nurse was sleeping and rose the knife to her neck, pulling it across the flesh, he watched the crimson blood drip to the hard wooden floor then he dropped the knife. The nurses couldn't hurt him if they were dead. The woman's voice would have nothing to say and he could sleep fearlessly and undisturbed.
