Chapter Thirty-Six-Her Pianoforte,Where She Belongs

Chapter Thirty-Six

Her Pianoforte, Where She Belongs

 

 

 

 

 

 

"How is she?" Reid asked Mammy, who was washing blood off her hands. Melanie had been in and out of consciousness for two weeks now, going through different phases of delusion. The only physical injury that was noticable now, was the gash in her achilles tendon. Reid knew what the girls first thought would be, once she came to her senses-would she or would she not be able to dance again? Melly's calling was song and music, but dance didn't fall far behind. Not being able to slip on her red ballet shoes, sharing the joke she and her father held, would break her heart.

"The same," Mammy said. "Ya can go in and see 'er, docta, if ya want."

Reid nodded a thank you, and slipped into the white room Melanie was being kept in. Her hair was wet, and in a long braid running from her crown to her lower back. Mammy had bathed her, and her skin was soft and pale. Her under eyes had bruising. Melanie's recent stage was numbness-again. She stared at the ceiling without seeing, not feeling the unbearable pain she should be. You could talk, and it would be as if she couldn't hear you. It was better than last week, when Melanie came into some sense, the first one she felt after the accident-pain.

Her screaming hardly ever stopped. It was gut wrenching and heartbreaking. She screamed how she wanted them to kill her, just to make the pain stop. She just wanted it gone...then in the middle of the night, after her fourth day of non-stop shrieking, her voice gave out, and she convulsed. Eventually, her muscles tired, and those stopped too. And Reid began to wonder, if she really was numb, or her body was too tired to deal with the pain, and she had to bear it without it's help.

Melanie screamed so many things that week. And Reid learned of Melanie's heartbreaking secret, that she hated herself for so much.

 

Mammy had the doctor look at it, while he was here. He identified two things. The first of which being that Melanie Rene Wilkes was a virgin. The second, it did look as if Melanie would have a terrible time trying to concieve and carry, not to mention, birth, a child. Melanie's only wish in the world, and her small, sick body might not be able to handle it. At one point, Melanie had a nightmare, screaming that she had lost the baby, and she was sorry. That's when Mammy called for the doctor. Melanie was so delirious, she thought it was possible for her to be pregnant, when never even touching a man.

"Melly," he said to her, taking her hand. Reid smiled. Melanie's eyes turned, and he gasped. She wasn't really fully gone....

But her face didn't show anything.

"M-Mammy!" Reid screamed. "She's here! She's okay! Mammy!!"

 

Weeks went by, and Melanie Wilkes got stronger, slowly. She hadn't spoke since the accident, and Charlie relayed to Spencer why.

"When she was younger, Melanie had two major fears. Losing her voice forever, and being paraplegic."

"That's quiet specific," Reid said, brushing the hair out of her face, which was planted on his lap.

Charlie shrugged. "I suspect she didn't want to not be able to dance. It would've ended her career."

"Career?"

Charlie shrugged. "Melanie was in Chicago, at an art school before I took her to the BAU. She wanted to be on Broadway."

Reid looked at Melanie. Of course that had been her dream.

"She was so scared she wouldn't make it...and I never gave her the chance. That night when we stayed in the hotel...her crying...God...it broke my heart....I never...and the other night, I thought she was going to..." he choked on his words, and looked away.

"She'll be okay, soon enough," Reid whispered.

Charlie shook his head. "She won't be the same. Every case...her skin gets thicker. I don't like it. She expects evil from everything now...I hate it."

 

One day, Melanie was sitting on the couch. It was late at night, and she couldn't sleep. She had on a long, white cotton, nightgown. It buttoned at her neck, and at the sleeves, and went down to her ankles. Her hair was in a long braid down her back. She was on the couch, across from the pianoforte. She stared without seeing, while Phillip stroked the curls popping out from her braid. He was speaking to her, but she made no sound.

"What are you looking at Melly?" he asked, smiling. She did something, and everyone rose from their seats. Reid motioned for them to sit back down, so she wouldn't be frightened.

She rose shakilly from her seat, and wobbled over to the Pianoforte, sitting down at the bench. Her fingers found a chord, and she pressed it. She smiled. Another chord, then another. And finally, a set of notes. She began to play a little song, sounding deep, but not that complex.

"You wrote that when we were teenagers," Phillip said, standing next to her. She didnt' acknolledge him, just kept playing. At the end her fingers hit a chord, and she stopped, her expression changing to something dark. Charlie froze and stared, horrified. She stared playing, and he recognized the song.

"Melly, stop," he pleaded. Phillip looked at her brother.

"What's going on?" he hissed.

"Melly, stop playing," Charlie said. He started slowly toward her.

"Masta Charlie," Mammy warned, her eyes wide and scared.

"Melly-"

"Masta Charlie."

Melanie screamed and flailed the second Charlie touched his sister's shoulders.

"NO!" she hissed. "Daddy's not home yet!! We have to wait for Daddy!!" she screamed, her voice high and fumbling for the keys on the piano. "Daddy!!" she screaming, falling into a heap on the floor. Phillip tried to touch her, but she swung at him. She rose, and ran to her father's office, and locked the door.

"It's like PTSD," Morgan said. Phillip stared after her.

"Is she ever going to be the same?" he whispered.
"This is the beginning of her recovering," Emily said, touching the boy's shoulder.

 

Three days later, Melanie emerged, eyes red and purple underneath.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She went up to Charlie, who wrapped her in a hug.

"I should've done this the first time," he whispered. She smiled gently.

"It wouldn't have made any difference."