The music blared loud, almost crushing Cheryl’s mind with it’s force. Implanted within her, not from any set of headphones or speakers.
It’s in me, within, surrounding, encompassing.
The music – suddenly quiet, haunting, meloncholy – did not hurt as much as tear and rend at the heart.
I’m breaking apart.
The music – now pulsing with energy like the sun – threatened to burst forth into the surroundings, the class that sat around her unknowingly.
In their eyes I’m already strange. But am I strange because of the music, or is the music part of my strangeness?
Questions that had been a part of her as long as the music. Questions Cheryl had no answer for.
The music – loud, soft, pulsing, heart-breaking, uplifting – mixed all together, discordant and harmonious at once.
Help.
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