Melodies of the Broken

record V: blackout harmony

That night, I had my first nightmare after a long while.

Well, not so much a nightmare. More like a, "Hey, remember this happened to you a while ago? I'm here to haunt you again!" kind of dream.

Only, this wasn't a dream. But a dark memory that no matter what I did, would never leave me alone. One where a pair of haunting yellow dots would chase me around a voided plane, nowhere to go but onward with this threat eating at my heels. 

I had woken up in the middle of the night with my heart in my throat, dazed at first since a part of me was still laced onto the nightmare. I had to squeeze my arm to save myself from going back to that place. 

And as I cooled down, I turned to look at the clock in my nightstand. 4:24 a.m. Way too early to start the day, but too late to go back to sleep. 

I had decided to stay up and browse through classical music to soothe my anxious body. As soon as I heard Pachebel's, 'Canon and Gigue in D Major', I felt the muscles in my shoulders give in to the melodies and relaxed. As I laid my back on the bed's headboard, I stared at the ceiling with all sorts of thoughts.

As if life hadn't been hard on me enough, I also had to be terrorized during my sleep; something I valued very much. 

Thanks, universe. You truly hate me. 

Morning came quicker than I had anticipated. And while I still had to go to school and struggle with the stupid amount of schoolwork teachers would lay on us, I was glad it was a Wednesday. 

Mainly because Wednesdays meant band meetings. And today, the meeting would be in Alexa's house. 

Even though the day had started with me losing my beauty sleep, it soon took a turn for the better, mainly because I had most of my favorite classes today- history, Spanish, and some innocent P.E dodgeball matches to correct those who've wronged me- with the upside of no William Henleys in any of my courses.  

Our coach blew his whistle the same time the final bell rang. "Hit the showers! Ya'll stink!"

I connected gazes with Simon Ray, whose arm was turning an unnatural red color from our last match. He stared at me in disbelief as he made his way to the boys' showers, the rest of his friends eyeing me in the same way.

Being fair, I had given him a heads-up that I went full-on during dodgeball. He hadn't believed me then. I hope he decides to make me his teammate next time. 

Seeing as the shower stalls would be filled with girls taking their time in taking the grime off themselves, I decided to head to the locker rooms near the soccer fields. They usually practiced at 3:30 p.m, which meant I had half an hour before they began to crowd the stalls. Sure enough, the stalls were empty, but the odor from girls jogging under the May weather didn't go unnoticed by my nose. 

Scrunching my face in disgust, I entered a stall that was farthest from the main locker area and the front door. Immediately, I took out a ziplock bag I had used to store my crackers for lunch, and put my phone there. 

Water rained down from the tap and its sounds echoed throughout the stalls, until it was overpowered by David Cook's, 'We Believe.' 

I didn't mind the loudness of it, nor if I caught someone walking by surprise with the sheer volume of the song. The sensation of a vast nothingness made me feel awful, especially since last night's nightmare, so noise seemed to be the only way to make me feel at ease. 

Ten minutes later and my drenched hair dropped water droplets here and there on the same clothing I was using before gym class. I wrapped my hair around in a bun to keep most of the water from soaking my white shirt, and gathered up my stuff.