This time, the migraine that came from nowhere and everywhere brought a song, student passersby disappearing, replaced with synesthesia in shades of warmth, nostalgia and a forest in winter. God, it was beautiful. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she couldn't make them stop, the fog only breaking long enough for her to see strong, slender fingers gliding over an old piano, the notes filling up her soul before she could see her bare legs in a tub, covered in suds, a melodic voice reading her fairytales. Then everything was slashed in red. Garish gashes of black blood, the notes cut short, a scream
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