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rest of your life with headphones in your ears.”
    I held in a breath, trying to block the rant that wanted to escape. I knew whatever life she had imagined me having was nothing close to what I would want. I would rather fight the whispers and shadows than continue to fight with her.
    “ Mom, we’re both tired – I don’t want to fight with you. Just let me stay here…at least until I feel better.”
    “ Charlie…I think you are really confused right now…and I don’t know how to help you…you need to go home.”
    For a second, it looked like she was holding back tears,but she was too strong to cry. I knew I must have really hurt her by doing this to myself – having that party - and that made me feel horrible.
    I started to say I was sorry, but she held her hand up to stop me. “I want you to play for me…I want to hear you play.”
    I felt the air leave my lungs. My heart started to race – it was like I had yearned to hear her say those words, but that didn’t make any sense to me. “I-I-I don’t know how.”
    Her body tensed, and fear consumed her expression. “Well….,” she said, looking down, “maybe it’s time for a fresh lesson.”
    My mouth dropped open – was she telling me to play music? She hated music – she hated sound – what had triggered this desire? Fresh lesson? I’d never played – I’d never done anything like that.
    All at once, flashes of memories of me playing a guitar came to me. I couldn’t breathe – what did those drugs do to me? Was I going insane? I swallowed and looked up at mom with pleading eyes. I wanted to tell her everything - about the whispers, the shadows, these fears for Britain I had - but I couldn’t find the words; all I could do was try and hold on to the these vague memories of me holding the one instrument that I absolutely adored.
    An odd calm seemed to come over the room, and the sinister whispers fell completely silent. I furrowed my eyebrows as I tried to understand how the mood around us could change so quickly – what was causing the silence.
    My mother’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she raised her head and looked at the thin air before her. “You can play for me in your father’s studio,” my mother said, smiling slightly.
    My eyes raced all over her expression, then to the blank space in front of her. It was like she was not even there anymore; she was somewhere else. I watched whatever fear she had for me wash away from her expression. She let out a deep breath, then walked toward her desk.
    I followed her in a stunned trance, trying to understand why she thought I could play – why I had those memories…they were so distant…so distant that I didn’t think it was possible for them to be real.
    “ Mom, I don’t want to go with Kara. Summer is all we have before…,” I stopped, not wanting to bring up the fact that I was leaving as soon as I turned eighteen – that it felt like I’d plotted that day for years, and it was a big part of the wedge that seemed to be between us.
    She sighed and tilted her head.“If I remember correctly… two days ago, you were planning on spending the summer away from me.” She closed her laptop down, then reached to turn her lamp off - but she hesitated as she glanced at me. She left it on, then walked past me to her room.
    I wasn’t brave enough to follow her. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I thought about waking up Kara. I assumed she was in the guest room, but I didn’t want to sound insane. I walked slowly back to my room, ignoring the shadows as they reached out from the dark corners of the hallway.
    I crawled back into my bed. The moment I noticed the whispers were still silent, they slowly began to show themselves again. I started to hum to myself as I imagined playing – I imagined how powerful it would feel - to create the only weapon I had against the darkness: music. I fell into a vacant dream, thinking tomorrow everything would be clearer.
    It felt like only a