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Chapter 16 - Music Therapy

Taylor stood up and covered his mouth. A million thoughts ran through his head at that very moment. He looked at Holden who was bleeding profusely. He walked over and knelt down, to see if he had a pulse. He did. Taylor stood back up. As much as he hated Holden he didn't want him to die. He ran to the door and pounded on it.

"Help!" he yelled. He turned around and looked at Holden, still bleeding. He knew he had to stop the blood flow. He ran over and grabbed some of his clothes that he had worn. The knife still remained in his chest and Taylor knew he had to get it out. He closed his eyes tight, looked away and pulled out the knife. He threw it on the ground and then put the clothes on Holden's chest holding it down, applying pressure. For a second Taylor thought about what he was doing.

"Why am I helping him? He was trying to kill me" Taylor thought, but it only lasted for a second. He knew he couldn't just let Holden die. He got up once again and pounded on the door.

"God damnit someone help!" Taylor screamed. Then finally the door came open. Ron came into the room and saw the scene. He ran over to Holden and looked back at Taylor.

"What did you do to him?!" Ron screamed. Taylor just looked at him. He couldn't even begin to get the words out. Ron ran out into the hallway.

"I need help in here!" Ron yelled. Taylor watched as three other men came running into the room. They all stood around Holden. Taylor backed against the wall and sunk down it, he felt light headed as he watched them pick Holden up and carry him out. Ron stopped and turned around to look at Taylor. Taylor looked at him with a loss of words. Ron slammed the door shut and left Taylor alone.

Taylor brought his legs up to his chest and put his hands over his ears. This could not be happening. What if he had the killed Holden? How could he kill someone? He looked over at the blood on the floor then he looked down at his shirt, covered in Holden's blood. He pulled it off and threw it on the other side of the room. He began to feel queasy. He got up and ran to the bathroom, throwing up in the toilet. He flushed and then crawled to the corner on his hands and knees. He sat there, dumbfounded, not believing what had just happened. Ten minutes ago Holden was playing the piano, now he was near death, all because of him. He remembered the look in his eyes. He really was going to kill him. So many thoughts ran through his head. He wished none of this had ever happened. He just wanted to be back home. This felt like a dream, it could not be reality. He just stabbed someone.

Taylor became light headed. Everything became muffled and he heard a sharp ringing in his ears. His vision grew blurry and he passed out on the floor. This was all too much for him to handle.

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Taylor's eyes opened slowly. He felt a chill and remembered he didn't have a shirt on. He sat up and glanced over at the blood spot on the floor. It wasn't a dream. He wondered how long he had been passed out for. He thought about Holden.

"If he was dead they would have told me by now" Taylor thought to himself.

He rubbed his arms feeling his goose bumps. He shivered and stood up. Taking a moment to get his balance he walked over to the dresser to find a shirt to put on. He found one he liked and grabbed it. Just then he heard someone enter the room and swung around fast to see who it was. He recognized the man who was now standing in his room as one of the men who had taken Holden out. He stood there, looking at the man, afraid of what he was going to tell him. His heart beat fast and he held a tight grip on the shirt in his hand. It seemed like forever before the man finally spoke up.

"Holden isn't looking good. Our doctor is looking at him" the man said with absolutely no emotion. Taylor breathed in and out, not saying a word. They had their own doctor here? The man went to exit, but he stopped and turned around, "if that kid dies, I would be very afraid of what Ron is going to do to you" he continued, then he walked out, shutting the door.

Taylor closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. He shook his head and tried to remember what he was doing before the man came into the room. He looked at the shirt in his hand and then put it on. He picked up his notebook off of the floor and sat at the piano. He needed to get his mind off this and the music was the only way he could think of doing it. He thumbed through the notebook finding that one song he wanted to work on. The title finally came to him and he took the pen he his stuck in the spiral of the notebook and wrote, "Believe" above the few lyrics he had written down. He set the notebook down on the piano and put his fingers on the keys, playing different tunes trying to come up with the perfect one. This song was so important to him and he didn't really know why. He just knew it had to be perfect. As different melodies came to him he came up with more lyrics to express how he felt. He sat there for hours just playing around, forgetting where he was, forgetting what was going on, just letting everything go.

He became tired. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he never wanted to stop playing. He didn't want to think about all his troubles. He didn't want to think about Ron or Holden or what he had done. The music let him escape. But he felt himself grow sleepy and he stopped playing. He sat there for a few seconds, then got up. He walked over to his bed and threw his body down upon it. He closed his eyes and let the music he had just played fill his head instead of the terrible things he was going through. Without the music the silence in the room was so loud. He realized that piano was his only escape. Trying had to think about his song instead of the wreck that his life was now, he dozed off and went into a deep sleep.

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