harmony hall 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

ii.

"Who's this?" She flicked her eyes up to her companion.

"Wings." Ophelia twirled the utility knife in her hand, flipping through and cutting out things she liked from her own magazine, using the cutting board in her lap. She would mostly use them to decorate her mixtape cases, but some found their home on her walls.

"Wait, but I know that voice." Talia pointed at the player, squinting her eyes as if it would help her ears.

"Yeah, it's Paul McCartney. This was after The Beatles split."

Talia hummed, "It's nice."

"I probably like his solo stuff the most, but All Things Must Pass is a very close second." Ophelia grinned up at her friend.

"Ooh I know this one!" Talia paused for a second, before snapping her fingers, "That one's George's."

Ophelia laughed, "You're learning well."

The two again dropped into comfortable silence, feeling happy just in each other's presence and in the blissful melody floating through the room.

Ophelia had always had a strong attachment to music. It was a comfort that she held onto tightly when everything else seemed to be slipping away. Even with the church hymns and choir music that were her only source of music when she was younger, she still felt a certain closeness with the sounds. Though she had moved past the songs full of empty promises thanking someone she felt she owed nothing to, they gave her something to channel her focus into, to block out the rest of the world. It made her feel the way nothing else could. It left a mark on her soul that she didn't want to scrub away for once.

Ophelia sat on the floor of her room, even though, at this point, she deemed it more of a cell. She couldn't focus, her mind in a haze as her entire, shaking body ached. She didn't remember what had been happening seconds, minutes, or even hours before. She didn't even know if it was the same day that she last remembered being taken from her room. An ache that seemed to radiate throughout her whole body told its own story, as it was not nearly the first time she had felt this way. She was sure it was from one of the multitude of tests the doctors would put her through. It had been about two years of constant testing and a blur of pain, fear, and missing memories. She could hardly place the time or day anymore, and she had just given up on even trying. Her head hurt too much anyways.

The frail girl was about the muster up the strength to stand and try to get into her small cot, but the thought floated away into the fog that her mind was shrouded in, just like it had when she had tried previously. It would at least be warmer than the tile floors, but she just let her eyes slip shut. The institution was quiet, which was an odd occurrence. Her hearing seemed to meander through the hospital, looking for something to grasp onto to keep her minutely conscious. They pricked up at a soft choir of voices that she could faintly hear. She recognized it almost instantly and even in the state she was in, the corners of her mouth pricked upwards. A gentle sigh left her lips as the voices grew louder the harder she focused.

The mist of her mind seemed to dissipate, if only just slightly. The sound filtered through her ears and spread to her chest. It was like an energy, a sweet tingling feeling that ebbed and flowed under her skin, from her chest out to her toes and fingers. The voices blend together, rising and falling like an entity, and though she couldn't understand what they were singing about, it was her only sense of light and peace. Intertwining and overlapping, she hung onto each note like a life raft. She felt like the weight and burden of what she told was a cursed and sinful existence were lifted off of her shoulders, if only for just this moment.

The bruises on her arms from needles or rough hands, the scars on her hands and heart, her salty, dry cheeks, the inescapable ache, they all seemed to melt away in those small moments. The time where she was alone. Just Ophelia. Just her and the revered music.