DISCLAIMER: Sound of Music isn't mine

THREE: CACOPHONY

Somber, cold browns had faded immediately into black—the candlelight now extinguished. Wisps of smoke, warm, wafting into the air, tickled her skin. The room felt damp and cold without the warmth of the candle, but she bit her lip and tried to close her eyes. There was a peculiar chill that ran down her spine, and goosebumps rose on her skin. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, but the chill had persisted, and she was left feeling cold.

She was deeply unsettled for reasons she herself could not pinpoint. Her heart was pounding wildly against her chest. She shivered under her blanket and willed that she fall asleep, but after minutes of tossing and turning, she found herself still awake, eyes blown wide.

She could hear whispers, soft, rough. She had wanted to demand whoever it was whispering to come into the light where she could see them, but she found herself voiceless. She could hear cackles, each one an octave higher than the last. She tried to scream, but nothing.

The room was pitch black, and she could not see a thing. She was beginning to feel numb, too, but she managed to locate her dressing gown. Wrapping it tight around her, she walked to the door, and instantly began to look for the knob. Upon locating it, she twisted the knob and stumbled into the hallway, which was illuminated by a single candle.

Cold sweat was beginning to bead her forehead as she shakily took the candle holder with the singular candle lighting the hall. Wisps of smoke now warmed her body and filled her lungs. She squinted and watched as the then-brown colours of the room steadily turned to an opaque grey. Smoke danced around her and tilted her chin upwards, leading her into the greyed cloud. She felt as if she were now floating in the smoke, seeking its source.

She moved down the hall, finding where this smoke was coming from. Her eyes began to water, but she persisted. She had seen this scene before, and immediately decided that hadn't been pretty as the image conjured by her imagination flashed in her mind's eye, vivid colours burning brightly, sickening her.

Eyes roaming for some sign of where the smoke was coming from, she had realized with horror that she was back in Aigen. Familiar paintings now lined the walls, the blue, yellows, and gold of the hallway, now mellowed and faded, covered—enveloped in a thick and heavy veil. She continued her search, but she could barely see a thing.

To her left, a door was slightly ajar, white-grey tendrils rapidly curling around her, pulling her inside. She had not seen this room before—in fact, she believed that she hadn't been in this part of the house ever before. But before her very eyes, she watched as dancing flames—red-gold hues, orange-coloured dancers tangoed, consuming the navy blue curtains. Near it, on the four-poster bed, she found a man's body—covered scantily by a sheet—splayed on the bed, a half-empty bottle of brandy on the nightstand.

She tried to take a step further to him, perhaps wake him up, alert him of what was happening, but she could not. There was some barrier between her and the room, and no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to enter. She began to shout, but nothing came from her mouth. She stood there, powerless as the fire began to consume the wooden flooring, making its way to the four poster bed.

She wanted to close her eyes but she could not. She didn't want to watch as the fire consumed it all.

Her vision was beginning to become hazy, and her mind began to reel. Her breathing was ragged and uneven as she felt the warmth of the fire nearing her. She continued to keep his eyes on him, watching as he woke and his eyes found her. She saw the same flames mirrored in his eyes—the same look of helplessness was etched onto his face.

She felt the fire burn through her long dressing gown, and the same fire engulf his bed.

"Maria!" She heard him scream, hoarse, shaky, loud, clear. His face blurred, as if rippled, distorted wildly by the heat, until she could only see red and orange, and she felt as if she were going to faint. She wanted to shout his name, but…

Cackle.

Scream.

Cackle. Scream.

Cackle, scream. Cackle, scream, cackle.

Cacklescreamcacklescream.

Her mind began to reel, and her world was beginning to turn grey as the cackles and screams echoed around her.

Black.

Now, she was made of ashes, too.

She jolted awake, wincing as she felt pain in her neck. Sweat had soaked through her nightgown, and her hair was plastered onto her forehead. Rubbing on the tender spot between her neck and shoulder, she slumped into the armchair, shutting her eyes closed instantly as her head began to pound, a headache beginning to form. Slowly opening them, she realized that she had fallen asleep in the library, an old book lay open on her chest. She could only hope that the book didn't get ruined.

Unlike her.

She tried to shake the dream from her head, but no matter how hard she tried, the image of him being engulfed in flames was thoroughly burned onto her eyelids.

Why did she need to see him again anyways? She had already been so content in England, far away from him, far away from memories. She had everything she ever dreamed of having—she had a family, she had friends, now she had Robert, whom she loved, but now, returning to Austria…

She only felt shattered—incomplete, parts missing—as if Austria were some unfinished book, unfinished symphony. She had closed that chapter of her life, but why…

Why was it that now, returning here, to a place where—look, she did not resent Austria. Quite the contrary, actually. She loved Austria with all her heart, yet she wanted to keep running away from it—from the memories that continued to haunt her at night, from the ghosts that circled her all the time. She continued to run away from it, yet now that she was here, there was a part of her compelling her to finish what she had started.

What did that mean for her, then?

She did say her goodbyes—kissed each of the children before she left, left them with a promise that they would remain in her heart forever. She had hugged the Reverend Mother goodbye, and even Sister Berthe, whom she was convinced was tired of her, teared up when she was saying her goodbyes. Saying goodbye to her students was difficult for her, too, but weeks before her departure, she had accustomed them to her substitute. So what was it that needed to be done? What had she left unfinished?

It was him, she thought bitterly to herself.

He was her unfinished business, and she was forced to go about Austria until she finished her business—until she was deemed worthy of leaving forever, finally closing the chapter of her life and stop looking back.

It was true that she didn't understand what she had felt then, and even when Baroness Schraeder and the Reverend Mother brought her attention to the matter, she had denied it with all her heart. After all, how could she, a future nun then, have possibly fallen in love with a decorated national hero—one that was arrogant, stubborn, full of himself, crazily annoying and absolutely merciless when it came to teasing her. Yet now, looking back at what had happened that fateful summer, she started to understand the true extent of her feelings.

Maria then, well, past Maria, she knew, would have followed Captain von Trapp to the ends of the earth—would do what he asked of her, no questions asked (well, maybe not "no questions" asked), It wasn't some girlish crush like she had thought of in the first place—no. She had been in love with a man who could possibly not love her back, and even if he did, had no power to show his love to her. If ever she had told him that she loved him, just as the Reverend Mother had suggested her do…

She now thought of it (for goodness' sake, it's 7 a.m., Maria, she rolled her eyes), and…

Past Maria would have accepted loving him in the dark if it meant being with him.

She could see bits and pieces of it now—midnight rendezvous, numerous clandestine meetings, intoxicated kisses, finished bottles of wine, passion swirling around them, dances in the confines of a single room, his arms finally around her, but gone by morning. She would wake up alone, forced to hide what she felt in broad daylight.

In all honesty, it was quite right that she had run away before, well, she did anything that she would regret. It was correct of her, she reasoned, but for all the selfish reasons.

It was also right that she escaped to England—tread on a new life, control herself and learn to put on that gracious mask, hide what she was feeling, compose herself—reinvent herself, and be a new person entirely. The old Maria was gone, and she was grateful for it.

She was an entirely new person, but—

The moment she had seen him in that café in town, feeling his eyes burning through her, the disguise was shattered and everything she thought she had left behind and thrown away had now resurfaced. Then there was that impromptu meeting in Agnes' rose garden—his eyes curious and accusing, pained to a certain extent. It was as if he saw right through her. It scared her. If he looked further in, would he have realized what she herself just realized a few moments ago?

Now, she didn't understand why she even agreed to go to Aigen for dinner tonight. It did seem like a good idea when she and Liesl talked about it, but now that these thoughts were beginning to devour her mind, goodness, she wished she insisted otherwise.

Shaking her head, she shut the book, making sure that the bookmark was in place, and stood up.

"Remember, my dear, you cannot escape your problems, you have to face them," the Reverend Mother's words rang in her ear. She remembered it—repeated on the day she left the Abbey for good.

"Oh, Reverend Mother," she muttered under her breath. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."

Hello!

*Not sure if it was obvious, but the first part was inspired by a mix of my favorite book ever, Jane Eyre written by the marvelous Charlotte Bronte and parts of my tears ricochet from the same album (folklore) by Taylor Swift!

Here's a short chapter for you guys because the rain had me in the mood to write/edit, and the chapter had gotten too long, so I had to cut it into two parts.

Also, at this point, I'm really, really, really sorry that I'm not a "let's go write something happy for fun" type of person, and that I'm quite the opposite. I started this when I was in a mood that screams, as Taylor Swift mentioned in this album, "I had a marvelous time ruining everything," and frankly, it's quite hard to deviate from that HAHAHA. I am trying to lighten it to a certain extent, but the angsty self who wrote this is difficult to beat.

We'll just have to see in the end (it really doesn't look like it, but we're almost there) if I will win or her!

I hope you liked this one hehe, and that it's not letting you down (I'm sorry. I really, really, really am. Trust me, I'm really #TeamGeorgandMaria :')). If you did like it, please leave me a review/fave/follow (or all three, but that's up to you!)

Stay safe,
Hope