She wasn't sure. Was it the darkness or the silence that scared her more? Or was it that she would have to act totally surprised when she turned on the lights and found her apartment filled with partygoers? She couldn't escape the feeling. Everything in the room seemed so eerie.
As Maria reached out her hand to find the switch, a cold shiver came over her. Her instinct was to run, but it was already too late. The room exploded with "Surprise!" and the ever-festive sound of party horns. Maria tried to look like she'd seen a ghost. She even dropped her shopping bags for added affect.
Maria circulated throughout the room receiving hugs and presents. Instinctively, she knew exactly what was in each gift. Her every friend in the world was there, and she could tell she wasn't fooling anyone. Being an actress meant nothing with these people. Not that any of them remembered Broadway anyway.
Blank eyes stared back at her behind false smiles and hollow laughter. People were laughing and carrying on, but in reality they were only repeating words. Maria felt alone in a room of close friends. After she received the last disc-sized present, the room became silent.
Every conversation ceased, and her visitors turned toward her with robot-like movements. "Open your gifts," the crowd echoed. "Open them." Again and again it was repeated in hollow monotony. Cloudy eyes looked upon her, yet each gaze reached through her to a place that she could not comprehend.
Maria knew she was stuck. More than once her family, friends, old teachers, everyone had tried to coax her to listen to The Song. Just once, they all said. Listen and learn was their message.
She looked down at the colorfully wrapped package in her pale, shaking hands. She thought it humorous that on her actual birthday nowhere near this many people had shown up. Maria looked absentmindedly down at the dancing prisms in the wrapping paper. Softly, a melody drifted to her. She violently shook her head and struggled to push back the music.
"Open them." Again the command reached her ears and made contact with her brain. She looked pitifully around the room. Maria caught Isaac's eye. He looked upon her blankly, like all the others. So, they got him too, she thought.
Maria was visibly shaking. She and Isaac had taken a vow not to give in. Together they had promised. Now, he was taken. Nothing left. No one to stand up with her.
Oh, she thought, how silly. You made it this far, Maria.
Suddenly a spring of courage welled up inside her and she tore the paper away from the first gift she'd been handed. The room sighed with relief as she faked an appreciative smile. The crowd closed in around her and handed her more of the presents, each one the same.
Everyone took the liberty of unwrapping their music-disc, and pleasantly handed them to her. Each disc had "The Song" printed in black, block letters on the glaring surface. It was quite lovely how the grooves etched into the disc reflected the light. Again she lost her concentration and again a melody swept past her. She focused on the growing pile of discs being deposited on her coffee table.
"Play it, play it," came the chant from the crowd.
No longer could she hold her emotions. This song, this mind control, had robbed her of her friends and her life. Maria remembered how her hearing had been damaged. Through what act of fate had such a terrible accident become a blessing? These empty people around her went about life as if they were all the same. But, her days had been torment. She was followed, stalked, cornered, and harassed. She feared that for her the end was near, and now rage gripped her.
Maria bolted from her seat on the couch, her hair flying. She swept the coffee table clear and rejoiced in the sound of plastic crashing to her wood floor. The room gasped in horror. She jumped around to the other side of the table and crushed discs under her heel. She grabbed one and broke it over her knee.
Just as her mom and sister were about to grab her, the whole crowd stopped chanting. Maria froze in terror; they had never reacted in unison like this before. Had The Song somehow made them change their minds?
She was being watched, she thought. She looked around the room and shook dreadfully as she surveyed all the things that might harbor a camera. The walls, the draperies, the lava lamp. Again the crowd made a sudden, uniform movement. They turned on their heels, made a single-file line, and filed orderly out of her apartment.
Isaac was the last to go. "See you at breakfast tomorrow," he said with a lack of feeling that broke her heart. He closed the door gently behind him.
Maria was in shock. She walked groggily into the kitchen and took two sleeping pills dryly. The pills would let her sleep without any threat of The Song claiming her. She locked her door, then her windows. The city worked with robot efficiency and there was no telling what they might do to make her become part of their emotionless ranks.
Tomorrow she would travel as far from the city as she could, but that was tomorrow. Now, as the chemicals pulsed through her bloodstream, she passed out, sliding into a listless slumber.
Maria slept without a dream. Although she was not a puppet of The Song yet, her sleep was no different from those who had succumbed. After a day of intense concentration, she needed more than just a chemical sleep. She slept without dreams, thoughts, or hope.
Maria checked her rearview mirror again. After the long procession of cars that had followed her to the edge of town, she checked the road behind her often. Now, not a soul was in sight. She had been alone on the icy road for two hours. They had given up on her, she thought. Or did they just want her to think they had given up on her? Or did they intend for her to be isolated?
Maria nervously reached for the radio dial, but then she remembered that only The Song was broadcast nowadays. She drove on, her breath hanging in the dry, cold air. Flat lanes stretched out before her. If she could just find a place to hide from all the madness. Maria craned her neck around to make sure she still had her bag. Ever since the sun sagged against the horizon, she had had a weird feeling that she'd forgotten something her life depended on.
She sighed, pushing back her jitters. The large bag was there, on the backseat, still tightly closed. She had enough food and warm clothing to see her through the end of the week.
Maria rubbed her eyes. She had a pounding headache. It had started when the sleeping pills first wore off. She still wasn't sure if what had happened this morning was real. She awoke to the sound of frying eggs and clinking silverware.
Her door had been quietly removed from its hinges and it lay propped against the wall. Every picture and poster was gone and her walls bare. In the kitchen her mother was cooking breakfast. Isaac, Maria's sister, and her father sat happily around the brightly colored breakfast table. In unison, they smiled at her.
The food smelled so good, and the room looked so perfect and warm that Maria advanced to the doorway. At the threshold, the melody of The Song gripped her. Her mother set a plate for her at the head of table and they said, "Isn't it wonderful? Join us."
In restraint, Maria had grabbed the molding of the doorway to stop herself. Now, though, as she looked down at her pale hand on the steering wheel, she could see that every one of her nails was broken. Her heart pounded at the thought of that perfect scene, so sinister and evil.
Maria grabbed her plate and threw it violently to the wall. The others looked down at the smashed pieces and almost wished that they could muster that kind of emotion. She turned to leave, but her father said, "Maria" so sweetly she stopped.
She met his eyes and thought he was trying to fight The Song. But, he closed his eyes briefly and reopened them with a blank stare. On cue, the people she loved laughed hollowly, smiled fakely, and repeated, "Join us."
The soul-crushing fear of that moment still clutched at her and Maria longed for a place where she could stop. Minutes later, the road went down a hill, and at the bottom was a sign that said GAS & LODGING ONE MILE.
Maria felt relieved and a melody softly warmed her. She turned off the heat and forced herself to feel her hands and feet ice-over. The melody vanished as she concentrated on the feeling.
The road went up a hill now. At the top was a motel. They weren't kidding when they said, "Beautiful highway view." She pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. Maria jammed her hands into her coat pockets and shivered. She was cold, but that's not what made her shiver. She had a feeling that something was watching her. Maria's survival was like some little drama, and the diva was giving her final performance.
She sucked in her breath, snatched the keys from the ignition, gripped her bag, and slammed the car door. The motel was abandoned. Maria headed for the porch of the first room. Her heart sank at the thought that this decrepit place might be her last hope.
Maria settled down onto the sagging mattress. She solemnly watched the crimson sun sink below the frosty plains. She gazed out the window of the room she had chosen. A jagged piece in the corner of the frame was all that remained of the glass. The yellow glow ceased, and the night embraced the foggy winter sky.
Maria sat quiet and serene for a moment. Her heart stopped pounding and she took a deep breath. As she let it out she decided that now would be a good time to take a sleeping pill so she'd be sure to sleep soundly until tomorrow. If this were to be her new home, she would need to get an early start. The gas station was in a shambles, but it still might have something to offer her.
Maria rose from the bed, the springs creaking beneath her. She locked the door and pushed the desk in front of it. Of course, anyone could come in through the broken window, but she felt safe nevertheless. Nothing could be as dangerous as The Song.
Maria unzipped the side of her bag and plunged her hand into the darkness of the pocket. Her fingers searched for the thin box of pills. They were nowhere to be found. Rage gripped her, and she tore open every pocket. She dumped out all her clothes. Cans of soup rolled across the floor. There they were!
Maria grabbed for the container and nervously opened it. All she needed was a pill, just one, and she'd be okay. But nothing! The container was empty. Someone had emptied her pillbox, then slipped it back inside her bag. Maria had been in such a hurry to leave the ghastly scene in her apartment, she hadn't stopped to check. She had left behind the one thing she thought she couldn't live without. And her family, they had been there not to entice her to join them, but to make sure she left without her pills. They wanted her alone, scared, and without a chance.
Maria felt betrayed and hopeless. But she wasn't given easily to defeat. No matter what happened now, she would not allow The Song to claim her. She would not surrender. She would not let herself be entrapped, not by her friends, not by anyone else. Maria would make a stand, even if she were alone.
At peace now, Maria sat back down on the flimsy mattress. The cold wind flowed through the broken window. In the bathroom, a sink was dripping. Each blob of water was but a sad cord in the closing bars of the song of humanity. Drop after drop, the water fell, like person after person being claimed by the madness. This wretched motel was a refuge not only for her, but also for her worn-out mind.
Another drop plunged to its death in the ceramic coffin. A faint glimpse of the warm days she remembered floated back. Her face was flush. She did not know what evil or harm lay within The Song, but she would not succumb, not like the others. She had seen how easily her friends had surrendered, how those who were once so full of life were now hollow. Their will, for anything, shriveled as they yielded to the melody. The sharps and flats took away all energy. The harmony sucked dry all human nature. They were left with nothing but empty bodies and stone cold eyes. They were vacant. They walked forward, not caring if their path was into a car. Maria remembered once, not long ago, she was making tea for a friend, and as The Song played in the background, her friend thrust her hand into boiling water. Not even a scream.
Maria crossed her arms now as a sign that she would not let this same fate befall her.
But, had she somehow denied her friends by not staying behind and trying to help them? No. She pushed that worthless thought from her mind. They were gone already and her survival came first, above all else.
Again the drip of the faucet pierced her thoughts. Maria wondered who had orchestrated this madness. Someone must have masterminded this whole sick scheme. But who? And would she soon be joining the robot-like ranks? If so, she would crush the maestro under her heel like she had the music-discs in her apartment.
Maria looked up at the stars peeping through the fog. Each star seemed to glow with warmth. She shook her head violently until her ears rang, and again she felt the bone-chilling cold. She tried to clear her thoughts, but she always came back to how robbed all the helpless people were. Every man, woman, and child had been reduced to a stupor. They sat around all-day and drooled. Most only ate when hunger pinched them. Their brains no longer dreamt, thought, or felt.
Maria resolved to think of the beautiful times. What about the azure, blue mountain streams? Or the boiling heat on a summer's night in the city? Those beautiful warm winds of spring with the music of birds in the air? She sighed—no longer would any of this be enjoyed. She shivered as a gust of winter wind turned her fingers stiff with cold.
It was the curtain call of humanity, and she was straining her ears to hear the audience's clap of approval. But all she heard was another blob of water begin its journey through the maze of pipes. The biting wind flowed through the shattered glass onto her. The moon rose to gloom.
She wished for the blanket she had brought, but her crossed arms clenched her sides in protest. The cold was chilling her bones. In her freezing state she felt defeated. What does it matter, she thought, the world as I know it is already destroyed.
Maria stopped her shivering. She was very afraid before, but now she was just filled with despair. She could try to stop it, if she chose to. But, she wrestled with the fact that she may be the last one, the only holdout.
What of the warm spring wind? She could remind them all of how it felt to be human. She could not destroy The Song, but if she found others, together they could free them all, one by one.
Maria let out a deep breath, and out with it went all hope. She could never manage it. Much too hard, she thought.
Her muscles ached everywhere from her endless shivering. She felt a butterfly float past. Her aching legs were soothed. She watched the stars dance about the now clear sky.
Maria could even hear the ocean and it eased her. The waves lapped the sunny shore. Maria leaned her head back against the wall and happily closed her eyes.
The waves ebbed and flowed. A harmony and melody arose. She thought it soothing, even calming. Maria's tired spirit relaxed. The waves disappeared, and a clear melody began. She knew it all too well.
Maria drifted towards sleep. She was finally at rest. Now she could sleep, perchance dream.