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"Please Mr.Johnson, if you don't have a proper dinner you'll get sick!"

"Too late for that hehehehehehehe!"

Today was yet another busy day for Nurse Claire - Me. I sit down on one of the hall's chairs, tired, my head hurting with each pulsation.

The humming... It's starting again.

Even though I've been to various doctors and psychologists, their final diagnose was always something along the lines of PTSD. The trauma of losing both of my childhood friends.

They were not wrong.

To add to the creepiness factor, Denise had died at 14 years of age, due to a really bad pneumonia. Various girls had moved town, and some I haven't heard about in years. I was the last, at this town, this theatre.

I take out the prescribed bottle of anti-psychotic pills, drop some on my hand and swallow - "This should tranquillize my mind for now."

And it did.

It did so so well I fell asleep right there, at that moment.

I wake up some time after. Outside the sky painted itself a deep black.

Oh shoot! I didn't mean to sleep this long!

Bit by bit, my consciousness returns. And I hear someone playing loud music from downstairs. Damned Alice! I've told her on multiple occasions!

Before going downstairs I check on Mr.Jonhson one last time - "He's fast asleep for now, at least."

As I approach the stairs, the music starts sounding less like a radio tune and more like someone is actually singing in real-time - Could Ms.Angella be off her meds again?

I follow the voice downstairs - How come hasn't anyone intervened yet? This is awfully loud.

The stairs lead me to the hospital's entrance hall and what I see-

"What the..."

On top of the counter, stands what seems to be an old lady in a patient's robe. She's singing her lungs out, massacring some opera piece, waving her arms around at the sound of her diphony. In front of her, various hospital employees sit attentively - on moved chairs - listening in on the old woman's solo-choir.

Eerie! I know some of them, what in heavens are they doing?

Even though it might be a stretch, is this a patient participation event I was not aware of?

I slowly walk towards the scene, taking a closer look at the old woman.

She sang as follow;

"The Night In Gale, thou hast called,

it answered thee, with an unforeseen cry.

Shouldest thee have what thou wished,

O willeth it answer thy voice,

blessed be thee, although unsung.

The saddening tale,

of The Night In Gale."

The public clapped. Poor woman. I too clap in appreciation. She put her soul into it dammit.

The old woman bows. This event is turning to be kind of interesting, how was I not told-

As I glance back at my coworkers, I am met with a row of completely empty chairs.

I look at the old singer but she was no more. The place where she stood, stood empty. No traces of her presence whatsoever.

Once again, I look back at the chairs, but the floor was clean empty. As if they were never there in the first place.

And so I was left in-sole, turning my head back and forth like a madwoman. I found myself staring at the prescription pills.