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Voices keep echoing inside my head. Every night is a night without rest as the chattering and muttering never seems to cease. I try to lock out these sounds by banging my head hard on the any surface that I can find or battering my head with my fists but only the echoes continue to haunt me again. The voices of inflicted pain, people screaming and shouting for help. The depths of agony and pain make me remember those dreaded moments that I experienced when I lost someone I love. But these sounds are so real, I do not even know if this is a dream or not.

I pick up my lyre. I begin stroking the strings, searching for the right note to begin with whilst slowly retaining my composure. Gently flicking the strings, I close my eyes and imagine a picture inside my head. Perhaps, an experience that I particularly enjoyed in the past? Maybe when I was a child, my hometown or even Lou…

I freeze.

My eyes open. The lyre slips out of my hand. The lyre hits the floor with a clunk that echoes across the dark empty corridor. I shake my head and pick up the lyre from the wooden floor.

I begin to play and the voices fade away…