In the next room, Melinda's hands balled up. Her arms started shaking under the force with which she was squeezing nothing but her own fingers into her hands. "AAAAAAAHHHHH!" she screamed in frustration.
"Melinda?" Orion called out. He ran into the room to find out what had happened. Everyone else was right behind him. "What's wrong?"
"I can't DO this anymore!" Melinda exploded, waving her arms around her head almost frantically. "It doesn't matter! How can it not matter?!" She grabbed her own head. "I can't take it!" For a moment she remained silent. But her eyes were a symphony of motion, wide and rapidly searching every possible position for some unseen answer. Finally she squeezed them closed as a look of pain crossed her face.
"Melinda? Are you alright?" someone asked.
She wheeled around to face the group. "
No-o!" she replied, drawing out the word to indicate what a stupid question that had been. She threw her hands up in the air. "No! I'm not alright! I'm completely NOT alright. How can I be alright when I can't figure this out?! I can't figure any of it out!" She took a deep breath, which calmed her down only slightly, then continued rambling. "I can't predict her. The stuff she does, it's too hard to understand. There's no telling what the results of her reaction to something will be! If I don't know what she's going to do, I can't account for it. If I can't account for it, I can't plan for it. If I can't plan for it, I can't plan for anything happening around it. Which means I can't account for
anything when she's around! UGH!" She turned back towards her table and huffed her frustration. "She's going to be the death of me," she muttered absentmindedly.
Labels: Story, The Lost Song
