Music.
It's soft at first, barely noticeable, just the smooth playing of the piano and harp in perfect harmony. Each note blends into one another, sending a soothing feeling over my body as the sound warms me. It starts at my toes and slowly works its way up until I'm enveloped in something I have never felt before, something that leaves me confused with whether I should enjoy it―or fear it.
The music grows louder and I hear a voice added to it, the lyrics undecipherable, but the voice beautiful. It's better than anyone I have ever heard before, hitting each note in perfect pitch and leaving me with the same feeling as the music. For some reason, the voice sounds familiar, like something I heard in a dream, but I can't place it.
I open my eyes and blink them.
Once.
Twice.
Three times before taking a look around my room. I sit up to get a better view.
Everything is how it's supposed to be; my closet door shut, glossy wooden chair tucked into the matching desk with my finished homework stacked neatly on top, and my clean school uniform for the next day laid out at the end of my bed with my bag on the floor beside it. The white sheer curtains are closed, the moonlight still visible as it gives my room a ghostly hew.
I furrow my eyebrows, confused as to what the music is and why I can hear it. Did someone leave a radio on? Or maybe Mother got a new ringtone on her phone. I'm not so sure. When I glance towards the hallway, I see light crawling into my room, growing brighter with each passing second. I frown.
Mother?
I climb out of bed and try not to make a sound as I tiptoe to the hallway, stepping on the floorboards that I know won't creak. I grab onto the door frame and peek down the hall towards the source of the light, my head poking out of my room. I wince when the floorboard I am standing on creaks from me shifting my weight forward. I step to the right so as not to make the same mistake again.
The first thing I notice is that Mother's door is still shut and I scold myself. Of course Mother isn't up, she wouldn't have heard the music anyway. She's the heaviest sleeper in the house.
My eyes glide past her door and I see where the light is coming from. It seeps from underneath my sister's door, squeezing through the cracks and landing on the floor in a large white patch that glows brighter and brighter. My eyes widen as I clutch the door frame, my knuckles turning white from my iron-like grip.
I suck in a breath as the music grows louder, the mesmerizing tones dancing around me and enveloping my thoughts. I take a step forward and into the hall, my legs seeming to move on their own. My thoughts mist over with a metaphorical fog, being replaced by the beautiful music that controls my every move.
Another step.
It feels wrong. I'm being controlled by some unknown force that's preventing me from moving on my own, from even letting me think on my own. I don't like it.
Another step.
My hand reaches out as I approach the door, the music growing louder and louder with each step. My will crumbles around me as the music takes control.
I stop in front of the door, my hand hovering over the handle. I feel that spark again, that voice inside of my head telling me to grab the handle and―
But it's not the same voice, and it isn't coming from my head, but from the other side of my sister's door.
"Help me, Aria. Save me!" The voice cries, her tone all too familiar to my ears and my eyes widen.
I recognize that voice, I think, but it can't be . . . can it?
I grasp the cold glass knob in my right hand, gasping when a blast of air and a wave of blackness consumes me for an instant before I find myself in Mother's room.
My older sister, Nina, is there. She sits on the large bed with Mother beside her. Mother grasps Nina's hands in hers, a serious expression on her face.
"Listen to me Nina," she starts, her tone earnest. "No matter how much they call to you, no matter how hard they beg, never go to them, never give in. They will try to trick you and lie to you; don't fall for it. You're stronger than that, I know you are." Mother squeezes Nina's hands with a pleading look in her eyes.
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I put my hands to my lips, but I feel nothing. I glance down at my arms and find that they are translucent, just an outline of their former shape. My eyebrows furrow and I frown.
What's happening to me?
I glance up at my mother and sister, seeing Nina nod with that familiar spark of determination in her eyes.
"Yes ma'am," she says in a steadfast tone and I furrow my eyebrows once again.
What are they talking about? And who's this 'they' Mother keeps mentioning?
I walk over to them, not making a sound. I don't think I can make one even if I try. I wave my hand in front of their faces, hoping for some sort of reaction.
They don't move.
I turn to Nina. She looks the same from the last time I saw her. Her long brown hair falls in waves to her waist. Her intelligent grey eyes spark with that confidence that I could never possess; her porcelain skin is flawless. My big sister's natural beauty still stuns me even though I have lived with her since I was born.
Could this . . . could this have happened in the past? Could this have happened before she went missing?
I glance over my shoulder at Mother. Her skin has color to it and there's a light in her eyes that I haven't seen in two years. Her face seems fuller and she doesn't look weak and thin like she does at dinner.
No, Mother doesn't look like this now. This must have happened before Nina disappeared. How can I see this? How am I here right now?
These questions begin to double and triple, millions of different ones swimming through my mind and crashing against each other as they search desperately for answers. I try to clutch at my head, but my hands are met by air. My breaths grow quicker and I feel myself begin to hyperventilate even though I can't hear it.
What is this? What is wrong with me? Why can't I feel anything? Why can't I speak? And why am I in the past with Nina and Mother? It doesn't make any sense, this can't be―
I feel a jerk.
My body is dragged backwards as the scene crumbles around me, my eyes widening as I let out a gasp of surprise. My lips part to let out a scream, but it won't budge. Darkness consumes me once again, the dim lighting from my mother's room growing faint until I'm left with nothing.
I blink.
I see the white wooden door to my sister's room in front of me and my hand on the handle. The glowing light is gone and the house is silent, the music having disappeared as well. There's a hand on my shoulder.
"Arianna."
I jump, whipping around to find my mother standing before me in her dark purple robe. Her hair is in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face. Her fingers are like ice and her eyes show an actual emotion. They hold worry.
"Go to your room," she says sternly.
I just stare at her.
She hasn't spoken to me in two years, she hasn't even looked at me, but now she stares me right in the eye and has the gal to talk to me in such a commanding way? She looks nothing like the mother I once knew; she has no right to treat me like this.
She gives my shoulder a squeeze. I feel a bruise forming where her nails dig into my skin.
I drop my hand to my side and bow my head, finding a sudden fascination with my toes that wiggle nervously. The blue nail polish is chipped.
"Yes ma'am," I murmur, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
I blink.
Seriously? Is this all she can say to me? Two years of silence and this is all she can say to her daughter?
She grabs my chin with her free hand and tilts my head up so I have to look her in the eye. "Arianna, listen to me. Do not go near this room again, do you understand?" She asks, her cold grey eyes scrutinizing me.
This woman is nothing like the mother I once knew.
Why doesn't she want me to go in there? What are they hiding? And who did she want Nina to stay away from?
I open my mouth to voice these thoughts, but Mother interrupts me.
"What did you see?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at me.
My mouth snaps shut.
How does she know I saw something? What is going on?
I'm tempted to tell her. I'm tempted to admit that I did see something, but then I think back to that vision.
Right before it faded, Mother said not to mention their conversation to anyone. I think of that confident look in Nina's grey eyes and how she was always so fearless. She was the strongest person I know.
I swallow and try channeling Nina's bravery into me as I bite the inside of my cheek.
I can be brave too Mother, I think, I can lie to my family as well.
I open my mouth once again, but this time I am not interrupted. "Nothing," I say, trying to be as believable as possible. "I saw nothing."
Mother watches me, her stare intense and her grip like iron. She searches my eyes for a trace of the lie, but I guess she finds nothing because she lets go of my chin and crosses her arms.
"Stay away from that room," she orders after a long moment of silence before turning around and returning to her room. She leaves her door open.
I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding and glance over at my sister's door one last time. There is no music. The light is gone. I listen, but I don't hear the voice either.
I take a step back towards my room, still watching the door to make certain that it really is gone.
Nothing happens.
Another step.
Nothing.
I nod to myself, satisfied that everything is back to normal before I turn around and hurry into my room, closing the door with a soft click behind me. I dazedly climb into my bed, the past ten minutes running through my mind as a jumble of thoughts that I can't seem to piece together.
I stare up at the ceiling once more as unanswered questions cloud my mind and glaze my vision. It seems impossible for me to even attempt at making sense of it all.
I blink once; a new question forms in my mind.
I blink twice and my mother's stern gaze flashes behind my eyes.
I blink a third time, but my eyes stay closed as exhaustion consumes me.