Page 1 of Sonata
1
Viola
Music is life.
Or death.
It really depends on which way you look at it. For me personally, it proved not so positive a while back at a concert when two of my best friends and I had dreams of being famous, making a ton of money, and touring the world doing what we loved. Dozens of people died, leaving all of us broken in more ways than we knew at the time. It not only screwed with our music, but it shattered something in our souls, too. Subconsciously, I rubbed a hand at the center of my chest before catching myself and tightly fisting my hand. I refused to think of those days; it won't do me any good between the four walls closing me on all sides.
That same ambition which the other two ladies dropped like a hot potato, made me drag them to this cursed place and got all of us imprisoned by a creature of nightmares. Oh, she looked very much angelic, and lovely, and normal...human. But every other day, as I watched either of my friends play their instruments while their audience withered and turned to husks in front of my eyes, it only cemented my conviction. She was something other, and the talent for music for all three of us was not life but death...
And I was the furthest thing from a human, too.
People didn’t just do the things the three of us were capable of. It wasn’t just my friends taking lives with their music. It was me too. I did that. The fact I was forced because not me, but my friends will suffer for my refusal did not justify it. It actually sounded like a very lame excuse even to my own ears. Is this why all the musical geniuses of all times went insane? It was a ridiculous thought, I was well aware of that, but you can never know.
I mean, it’s not like I expected to be taken by a monster, so the crazy thought might carry weight. These days I simply didn’t know what to think or believe. Apart from the fact that my captor was definitely a heinous bitch.
Grinding my teeth, I took long deep breaths to calm my thoughts. Talking crap about another woman only made you feel better because if you convinced yourself she sucks, while you envy her at the same time, it meant she’s not as impressive or unique as she appears to be. It’s been my mission in life to empower women, and yet here I was, having these damn thoughts poisoning my mind.
“This is not you, Viola. You’re better than this.” Muttering under my breath, I focused on my breathing.
The musty stench of the damp walls clung to my nostrils, heavy with mold and what I knew now to be magic. My lungs sagged heavily in my chest as if filled with water, and I struggled to keep my inhales even and calm. Aware that my mind had a lot more to do with how I was reacting to my situation than anything else, my eyes opened on the next exhale. It was all a mind game that Seraphina played with us, and if I could only find a weakness in her plans, I was sure that I can get us out of the cursed place.
A church of all places nonetheless.
How’s that for a slap in the face?
My breathing sped up, and I darted my gaze around the room or my prison because that’s what it was, focusing on physical things to stop the building panic attack. As long as I can see objects that I could touch, it helped ground me in the present and out of the wild thoughts churning in my brain. A couple of days in a row, I thought I heard music coming from the outside too, the melody similar to a song my friends and I made up ages ago teasing my senses. I also played at those times, which kept me from screaming help as loud as I could. No one but the three of us knew that song, so I was aware that it was my imagination since we were all locked in the damn place, but it did make me feel closer to the other two women when the notes filled the small room.
It took me a long moment to hear the soft purring coming from around my cold feet. Without missing a beat, I reached out and pulled the cat to my chest, wrapping my arms around the soft furry body and clinging to it like a lifeline. The purr intensified as I buried my face in the cat and filled my nose with the musky scent of the animal. Someone once told me that cats are susceptible to human emotions, making them perfect companions for those suffering from anxiety and depression. Although I was up to my eyeballs in the wild woman, awaken your inner goddess movement, I never actually got one for myself.
In the middle of my nightmare life, he found me.
It was the only thing protecting my sanity.
“Hey, buddy. You came again.” Whispering so he doesn’t freak out and claws my eyes out, I rubbed my cheek on his fur. “I missed you for a few days.”
I’ll never admit to a soul that I actually worried about the rascal when he didn’t show up each day thinking that crazy woman found him and killed him. Melody, Harmony, and I were still alive because she had a use for us. I was sure of that. The cat, on the other hand? Not so much, from what I could see. He always hid when Seraphina showed up. Not that I blamed him.
A loud mewl came from the small body in my arms, and he stretched lazily, almost falling out of my hold. Scooting back on the small bed where I slept every night, I leaned my back on the wall to give him more room to wiggle. Having him near calmed me down unlike anything else. Sinking my fingers in his soft coat, I scraped my nails gently, which usually made him roll on his back and enjoy the scratches. However, his time he stiffened, and one of his ears flicked this way and that while his eyes were locked on the wall to my left.
There were no windows in this room, and the only way in and out was through the locked wooden door that looked flimsy but not even a truck can break through it. I know because I tried everything the first few days I got locked here. From throwing the one chair that ended up with a cracked leg which will eventually give out while I’m putting mascara on, and I’ll poke my eye out. Taking a running start and slamming the metal bed frame at it that resulted in me biting my tongue from the impact might've been smarter, but the door didn’t move. I even pulled a ninja on it, jumping and kicking at it, shouting like a banshee for sound effects. It sounded nuts now, but at the time, it was a good idea. I’ve seen Karate Kid a dozen times, so I thought I can totally pull it off.
Daniel San, I was not.
A girl can dream, but the door stayed locked and I was left a prisoner.
At least I had the cat, and occasionally I saw Melody and Harmony. They were still alive, and so was I. Things could’ve been much worse. My violin caught my attention from the corner of my eye, propped on the dresser, taunting me. With clenched teeth, I glared at it as if everything was the instrument’s fault. I had to blame something or someone for everything, and if it wasn’t my violin, then I’ll have to admit we were all locked up by a psycho because of me. I wasn’t sure I could handle the guilt in my fragile mental state, so I hardened my stare. In my turmoil, I must’ve cramped my fingers because the cat hissed, sinking its claws in my thigh before jumping off my lap with a screech.
“Crap.” Scrambling off the bed, I dropped on my knees on the dirty floor, the hard impact jarring my bones. “I’m so sorry, buddy, so… so… sorry. Please don’t leave.”
Tears burned at the back of my eyes while I lifted my hand, reaching out palm up, begging him not to disappear. I was so messed up, I scared the only living creature that kept me company because I couldn’t control my emotions. The cat eyed me warily, ears pinned to its skull and upper lip curled so he can bare his teeth. The long tail lashed behind him in agitation, but it was his stare that sent a shiver to crawl up my spine. I knew he was an animal, but there was uncanny intelligence meeting my gaze that made my body go cold and numb.
“I’m sorry.” I breathed through unmoving lips feeling dazed by the vertical pupils.
That’s the only reason I jumped a foot off the floor when a scrape of a shoe came from behind the wall—the brick and mortar barrier to my freedom. The cat smirked, which confirmed I was ready for the mental hospital and already had my mind on vacation while I wobbled around on all fours to face whatever insanity was coming from me. Another scrape of a pebble over hard ground formed goosebumps on my arms, sending my heart rate into overdrive while I panted like a crazy woman with wild eyes.
“You are imagining things Viola, get a grip.” It didn’t sound as firm as I wanted when my voice cracked, but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. “Snap out of it woman, you are your worst enemy. You are hearing things.”
