Asher felt sick. Really sick. He hadn’t felt this way since his mother had died. That soul-crushing feeling when you know that nothing will ever be the same, and all that overwhelming worry and fear comes in a wave, and when it washes away you’re left feeling empty, like there’s a part of you missing.

That was what Asher felt as he looked up at his father and brother peering worriedly at him.

“Ash?” Adrian said anxiously. Asher couldn’t remember the last time his brother had been that quiet, so quiet you could barely hear him.

“Asher, are you feeling alright?” His father asked tensely. “Do you need to go lie down? Do you have a fever? What’s going on?”

Asher felt like yelling.

“After your mom died, Cedric took on her role, didn’t he? And your brother began to fill the silence with laughter and talking. The only thing left was her beautiful art. Her collection hangs in the walls, never to be added to. You were the one who got her talent, yet what did you do? You hid it away. Your father and brother did their roles, and what did you do?” the unknown voice taunted him.

“Shut up!” Asher screamed.

The concerns and questions from his family immediately stopped. Asher took a deep, shaky breath. If he didn’t open his eyes, then it wasn’t true. He hadn’t just yelled at his family. It was all a bad dream.

“Oh, well look at what you’ve done now.” the voice said dryly.

Asher looked up at his father’s shocked face, and let out the breath he was holding. It was fine, it would all be fine. He would apologize and face some sort of punishment for yelling. He shakily struggled to take another deep breath and looked at his brother. And that’s when he lost it.

The voices began to scream at him. Voices. Many. Asher fearfully looked into his brother’s sad and scared eyes, and the voices screamed.

“You’ve hurt him, you’ve hurt him!”

“What an older brother you are!”

“He was only trying to help.”

All the accusations stormed Asher’s head, and he felt as though he would go insane. He dropped to the floor, and as a scream threatened to escape his lips, he turned away from his family to hide his tears. It felt as though he was being torn from the inside, all the guilt and anger and fear bubbling up inside him tenfold. He turned to look at his family, and slowly pulled himself off the floor, using the table as support. As soon as he stood, he doubled over in pain, pain that could not be located, pain that surrounded him. He forced himself up again and ran out the rough door, grabbing his guitar as he went.

He found the oak tree he had been sitting underneath earlier and slowly lowered himself onto the uneven ground. He didn't know why he had grabbed his guitar, but he was glad he had. He began to gently strum the strings, letting their smooth melody calm him. The music took over him and drowned out the voices. They hissed their insults at him, but they only came to Asher as a whisper.

“Too little too late, too little too late. Always late, never enough,” but Asher thought back to that memory, that warm summer day when he had first played his guitar.

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He remembered his mother smiling as he began to string notes together, creating a hap-hazard melody. His mother had said it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Never enough, never enough,” Asher mocked the voices. “She thought I was her world.”

“Ah, but she’s gone now.” the voices hissed. “No one left to love you now.” Asher shuddered at the cold and hateful tone the voices held. He knew this wasn’t true, but was still trying to get over the initial shock of the voices, and couldn’t think of a remark. Instead, he focused on tenderly playing the notes and letting the melody fill the air. He suddenly found himself unable to focus on what he was playing, and the next thing he knew, he was standing before the town near his house.

The voices were quiet for now. Asher’s whole being screamed prayers at the sky, pleading, begging, that it had all been a dream. A nightmare. Asher sat down beneath a tree and cried. He cried not only for himself but for his brother.

Adrian had gotten sick about five times before he turned two. That’s why Asher worried. His brother was weak and would be for the rest of his life. No one thought he would live to be five. Yet here he was.

Asher quietly played as he turned his prayers toward Adrian. Whether there were gods, Asher did not know. But for years, he had prayed. He would do anything for his brother.

Asher didn’t know how much time had passed, but he soon noticed a girl, about his age, walking down the path. She stopped in front of him and smiled. The smile was not the same as his mother’s but radiated with the same kindness.

“That sounds nice,” the girl said.

“Thanks,” Asher replied.

“How long have you been playing?” the girl asked.

“Well, I got this guitar seven years ago, played for about two, then stopped. I started playing again a few years ago, but I only played sparsely. I really only began again a few months ago.” Asher replied.

“Why’d you stop?”

Asher swallowed. “Um, well, my mom gave me this guitar. But then she died. I just...stopped playing. I don’t really know why.”

“Well why’d you start again?” Asher felt slightly uncomfortable at all of her questions, but he was somehow at the same time comforted by her presence, so he answered.

“Because my brother told me he missed my playing.”

The girl thought for a minute before responding, “Well, maybe you didn’t have anyone to play for.” She then added, “I’m Elena.”

“Asher.”

“That’s a cool name.”

“Thanks.”

“So, Asher, what are you doing all the way out here? I mean, I haven’t seen you around, so I assume you don’t live here.” Elena asked as she sat down next to Asher

“No, I don’t.”

“So why’re you here then?”

“I heard voices.” Asher was surprised he had said it so easily, but the words had sounded far away, almost like he didn’t want anyone to hear.

“What kind of voices?” Asher was surprised she seemed so calm. He had expected her to think he was crazy.

“Lots. Or maybe just one, saying the same thing over and over. But anyways, they’re scary.”

“Did they just start now?”

Asher still felt uncomfortable, and still, the girl somehow calmed his fears. He felt he could talk to her.

“I...I don’t know. I almost feel they’ve been there awhile, but I just really noticed them now. Like, I know them, but I don’t. Does that make sense?”

“Well is there something special about today?”

“Um… it’s my brother’s tenth birthday. He...he wasn’t supposed to...to make it this long.”

“Oh.”

For once, since Asher had met her, Elena was silent.

Then the silence was broken by a thunderous yell.