The Forest of Sleepers (Nowhere Book 2)

t w o : p i a n o s

Ophelia Penny was no stranger to magic. Even before an ancient forest appeared in her town which was already populated with ghosts, she'd already found it everywhere.

The ingredients to magic lay within the very fabric of the universe already--woven in like gold throughout a tapestry.

Magic was in the gentle dip of a flower against the wind, the laughter of a group of friends, or the smell of a home-cooked pie baking in the oven.

Ophelia Penny thrived off of this. That is, life itself.

She loved to create and explore and experience.

But most of all, she liked everything to be perfect.

This especially applied to her many talents of theatrics, artwork, and music.

Music, however, was not Ophelia Penny's specialty.

"This is a stupid mechanism being played by a stupid idiot." She sighed.

Miss Lee, Ophelia's piano teacher, sighed as well. She was a tall woman, whose figure was as spindly and lithe as her fingers, which seemed to glide over the keys instead of pressing them.

"Ophelia," Miss Lee said in her wispy sort of voice. "Be--"

"Patient," Ophelia interrupted. "I know."

Ophelia laid down on the piano bench, staring up at the school music room's ceiling. She'd been scraping together enough quarters to pay for her own lessons for months and she'd endured three sessions with no results. "Life is a string of hardships," she said.

Miss Lee sighed once again.

"When I'm rich, maybe I'll be able to play," Ophelia concluded.

Miss Lee asked, "Why would money improve your skill?"

"Because rich people have very little discernment in their taste, as long as enough champagne is being served while I play."

Miss Lee made a noise of either concern or exasperation, Ophelia couldn't tell.

"That's enough for today," Miss Lee said. "Make sure to practice more than twice. Don't be so hard on yourself--you're only making it more difficult to improve."

"Thank you," Ophelia said, retrieving her sheet music and beginner's book and tucking them into the crook of her arm, along with her other schoolwork.

She said goodbye to Miss Lee, gave a distasteful glance at the grand piano, and found Birdie and Marigold waiting for her in the hallway.

"I'm such a failure," Ophelia groaned.

"What?" Birdie put a finger to her ear and leaned in.

Ophelia repeated, "I said I--"

"Sorry, I can't hear you," Birdie replied. "My ears are still ringing from all that noise you made on that poor piano."

"Birdie." Marigold nudged her in the side, then turned to Ophelia. "You're only just beginning, Ope. With dedication and practice--"

"Don't preach at me," Ophelia muttered. "How was your exam?"

"Aced it," Marigold replied proudly. Her exam had been in arithmetic, so of course, she'd done well.

Birdie, who was decidedly terrible at mathematics and was in the same class as Marigold, said, "That makes one of us."