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Lament of the Insane

By , Port Orange, FL
“The saddest thing in the world, is loving someone who used to love you.”

His voice only whispered the words. He stared at the book from whence the words came, his mouth opening and closing slowly.

“How morbid.” he commented shortly, shutting the book closed with one hand. His fingers flitted across the makeshift desk, and flew across the wood, almost as if he were playing piano. His long, slender, pianist's fingers trilled tapping noises as he hummed a pretty piece to himself.

“Chopin's Nocturne op. 9 no. 1!” he suddenly gasped. His eyes widened and he flew into a bin near his feet, tossing sheets of seemingly complicated music into the air.

As he was searching for his lost music, the door to his room opened and closed momentarily, and a woman dressed in nondescript nurse's clothing sauntered in, her eyes giving away the feeling of weariness.

“Landon...” she chirped, her mood changing dramatically to create the illusion that she was happy to see the young man. He half turned, still shuffling in his box of music paper.

“Landon, it's time to take your medicine.” she crooned, and he grimaced to himself. Medicine. That stuff is for crazy people.

Landon ignored the nurse. “Landon-”

“I don't need it.” he stated flatly. The nurse's smile faltered momentarily. “Landon, please, take it. The more you take it, the faster you'll be gone.”

“I'm not crazy.”

The reply came automatically, and almost involuntarily, for the sentence had been repeated countless times. The nurse's fake smile vanished at once. She turned to the side and pressed a white button that was attached to the wall, which was a blank as the button.

Landon kept his back to the nurse, fully aware of what had just happened. This, too, had played out the exact same way for far too long.

The door had predictably opened with a loud bang, and three other doctors and nurses rushed in, holding sedatives.

The nurse held up Landon's bottle of pills. Landon had turned around now, his violet eyes focused on a syringe that a different nurse held, full of a clear liquid that Landon knew would knock him out.

The nurse raised a thin eyebrow, her lips no longer curved into the artificial smile. “So, Landon, will you take your medicine?” she inquired.

And Landon, as always, replied,

“I'm not crazy.”

The nurse with the syringe rushed forward and shoved the syringe skillfully into Landon's forearm.

The last thing Landon saw was the first nurse approaching him, smiling sardonically.





The moon was high in the sky, above the treetops. It was almost midnight, Landon could tell, by the position the moon was in the sky. He scowled through the iron bars of the “window”.

Frustrated with his lot in life, Landon slid to the floor in the corner, leaning his head against the pasty wall and closing his startlingly violet eyes. He thought of all the friends he had once had. He thought about the future he had almost had. His grades had been excellent; he was headed for Julliard on a full scholarship for his talent on the piano.

He began to hum the tune to Chopin's Nocturne op. 9 no. 1, his absolute favorite. His fingers moved on the dusty floor, as if he were playing the grand piano at the high school once more.

“That's beautiful.”

Landon cried out and stood, snapping his head against the wall, making a loud boom.

The girl who had been in his hallucination sat in front of him, on his bed. She gazed at him with her luminescent eyes.

“What do you want?” Landon asked, his voice surprisingly loud in the tiny room. He was frightened, unsure if the girl was dangerous or just a figment of his wild imagination.

The girl shrugged, then made a curious motion with her slender hand. A violin appeared on her lap, and a piano in front of Landon.

Landon cried out, astonished.

The violin was beautiful, made of a crimson wood and strings that shimmered in the scant light. Her bow was made of a very fine hair that seemed weak and frail; but as she settled it on the strings of her instrument, they became taut and strong.

The piano in front of Landon seemed ancient, but the ivory keys were spotless. He reached out, hesitant, and pressed a key down.

The note rang out like a cry, perfectly tuned. Landon stared at the keys, mesmerized. The girl smiled prettily. “Play.” she whispered.

The music that emitted from the piano came softly at first. The girl lifted her violin and began playing along with Landon.

Landon closed his eyes, letting his fingers flow over the piano on their own. The piece the two played was unknown to Landon; he no longer had control over himself.

“What...?” he began, but the girl struck a high note on her instrument, silencing him. His fingers stopped moving at once, and her violin vanished, along with the piano.

Landon stared at the girl.

“You think this is fake?” she spat, her eyes flashing. She was angry. No, not angry... livid.

Landon opened his mouth to reply, but before he could answer, the girl vanished, and he was alone once more.

He didn't think much of it. With a sweeping smile, Landon returned to the window. His hair was standing on end; his fingers were twitching. He slipped down, leaning against the cold wall, pressing his cheek against the cold plaster.

He closed his eyes, still smiling. Tomorrow would be another day. Maybe the silly girl will visit him again...





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