Time is a curious thing. For some, it passes in the blink of an eye. For others, it drags along like a weighed down snail. Often we scarcely notice time at work. But sometimes, time is all a girl can count on. Sometimes, time is everything.
Blind, deaf, and dumb, she mostly sat around all day. Now and again, she would hear someone walk into her spacious room. They were usually tall men in pristine white lab coats, but sometimes a short woman with a simple blue dress would visit her. Other women would visit, but none as frequently as the blue dressed girl, who would sit and talk with her for a while each time. Oh yes, the girl could see, talk, and hear.
Many times, she would sit and stare at the clock in the corner. The ticking had become the rhythm she lived by, the rhythm that was holding her together and breaking her apart. Sometimes it would stop working, and the girl would stop with it. Right away, though, more men in lab coats would fix it. It was a curious time for her. Something would change inside her, and the brokenness and wholeness would both just stop. Time was her master, and without it she could not be.
Her friend in the room was a small tin music box. It sang a familiar tune, one she swore she knew . She got an odd comfort from it, like the simple song could fight off all evil in the world.
“You are Rina.” She was told one day, by one of the men in a coat. She had nodded, accepting the name. With no name, she was nobody, and she certainly didn't want to be nobody.
Gradually, though, as Rina stayed in her brightly lit room, she started to reach out to her visitors. They became her friends, almost like family. She came to know them by name, share jokes with them. All but the woman in the blue dress. For some reason, the woman would not talk to Rina anymore. This saddened the girl, and she doubled her efforts, but she could not get the woman to talk. Finally, she asked one of her friends, Rob, why she wouldn't answer.
“Oh, her? That's Janice. She's been here longer than you. You scare her. Beauty, plus sociability, are key elements here.” He replied to her question. She also asked where 'here' was, but he would not answer. She decided to drop the topic, and chatted with Rob while the gentle lull of her music box played in the background. It created a soft environment that soothed Rina, calmed her and almost made her forget she had ever asked. After he left, Rina was joined by Janice.
“Hush now child, and listen. Questions in this place are not looked upon fondly. The one you call Rob may seem friendly enough, but things are not as they appear. If you heed my warning then perhaps you'll make it out. But whatever you're doing, stop. And never listen to that music box again. It is designed to mess with your mind, to make you think you've always been here. Never forget, they ripped you away from the one that matters most,” Janice had whispered furiously. This confused Rina, but she had nodded along anyway, mostly happy that her soon-to-be-friend had spoken to her again. Of course, right after she fled the room, another lab-coated man urged her to turn on the box. Rina liked the bliss it gave her, so naturally she agreed.
Oddly enough, after that day, she didn't see Janice anymore, and no matter how much she asked, she could get no answers. Rina thought this was strange, but it was quickly wiped from her memory.
Many days passed in the same fashion, with her friends coming and going multiple times throughout. Soon enough, she found herself to never be alone, not while eating or sleeping. She hardly noticed the people there, though, and eventually it was just a part of her day like anything else.
One day, she had heard voices come closer and closer. They sounded quarrelsome, and angry. Rina was upset by the loud and harsh voices, and went instead into the corner to listen to her music box. The melody could muffle their words, and as long as it didn't drown out the ticking of the clock Rina felt safe; so she rocked, denying the inevitable arrival of someone at the door.
Abruptly, her song ended. Before she could wind up the music box again, an urgent rap at the door alerted her to her surroundings. Strange, she thought, how she hadn't noticed the voices stopping. Eventually, it clicked in her brain, next to the ticking of time, that she was supposed to open the door. She slowly crossed the room, almost having forgotten how to walk after all this time.