Drearie Dreams *Scene from chapter*

Author's note: A tidbit of mostly dialogue of my favorite character Annabell. Think of her as a jungle flower: beautiful and elegant, withdrawn but is easy to look at, and very mysterious.


"What will it get me, fulfilling my fantasies?
Living the thoughts that never see the light of day. Walking the dreams I see at night. What might I find, if I walk away from all that I know? I often wonder if my visions could become truly real, and live out the way my imagination depicts them. These dreams encourage me to embrace the warmth I've never known.
So long I have felt bound to thoughts, that  will never, see the light of day.
Like them, I too am trapped in my mind, I think.
My days are filled with longing for nightfall, so that I might rest my head and be with my visions."

" I thought they would go away after time; I assumed continuing with daily tasks would lay my dreary dreams to rest.
Nay, the more time that passes, the less I long to be here, where my thoughts do not play out."

"Understanding your rambling young girl, is a task I think would be hard for even the most experience Linguist. Are you telling me you are having dreams that are so strong, you feel you must abandon all your responsibilities and relish in them?"

"I do not know George, 'tis why I am so confused."
.
"Are you not happy with your life Annabell? Your father has made it so you could live any life you choose, at no cost to you. Are you not happy with the young man you have been seeing?
You seem content with him, and I heard talk of you two moving into your own house on the countryside."

"Yes, yes George, all this is true. I can't quite figure out weather I am experiencing dreams, or if I am creating fantasies."


"I have known you for a number of years Annabell and I have never seen you so distraught, so consumed in, well, what exactly are these dreams? What are these fantasies you are talking about?"

Annabell unleashed a shrill gasp and stormed out of the study. Running towards the music room she cried. Entering the room she sat by the piano. Resting her hands, Annabell analyzed the conversation she just had like a stenographer does with court room jargon. Why had she been so honest with George. Should she had said anything at all? Why was he so surprised that she could have deep feeling? Annabell pondered long and hard.

"Why did I think talking about it would make me feel any better? I just wanted to share my feelings with another real human being."
She cried out to the piano as if the instrument magically turned into another real person,  "if this is what happens when you express private queries, I shall never do it again!"

Deep in her sadness, Annabell's fingers drifted toward the piano as if they had a mind of their own. Slowly her body started swaying to the music her appendages produced. Music always made her feel better.
When she was little her father would play her a song he said he wrote for her when she was born. Longing for female  advice, longing for her mother, she turned to the piano.
Annabell learned to play the piano at age two by one of her many nanny's that cared for her growing up.
She learned to use it as a tool for emotional release at age eight when the bullying started at school. Annabell produced wonderful medleys and lyrics. She performed for politicians and celebrities  when they came to the city for business.

"lala dee da" Annabell did not write songs the old fashion way.
One day when she was younger and was struggling with writing a song for a famous novelist who was speaking at  her elementary school, her favorite nanny Rosalie, the one that raised her from kindergarten till high school, told her: "simply open up your mouth and let your fingers play."

Feeling embarrassed for opening her mouth to scholar George, reckless for running out of the study, and empty because she still needed to talk to someone who could relate to her, Annabell started singing about her woes.

"Home is, where the hurt is,
Trapped inside, my own mind

I know, one day, I will
Fall low, the white lite
To what is right."