"Why are there so many origami cranes on the table?" Amory eyed the paper cranes covering the table, all in different colors. Some solid colors and others have pattern.

"Draco Malfoy was here" Ophelia told her father.

"What?" He questioned.

"You know, because in the movie he sends Harry an origami crane with a drawing in it" Ophelia grinned.

"Wow" Amory said unamused.

"Wow" Ophelia repeated and held up the red crane she just made in both hands "although blowing on it doesn't make it fly because sadly I'm not a wizard" she blew on the paper and it didn't fly up, instead it fell off her hands and hit the table "or don't have Juliet's talent"

"So you made all this mess?" Amory motioned at the cranes on the table.

"That was Juliet" Ophelia quickly told on her sister "they originally started off as animals but then ended up being cranes. I don't know how she does it"

"I bet she says the same thing about you when you read" Amory said.

Ophelia shrugged and looked up at her father "Papà, do you ever feel left out?"

"Left out? What do you mean?" He pulled out a chair at the table and sat down.

Ophelia looked down at the crane and pressed on the folded parts "well you're the only one here who doesn't have- I don't wanna say magic but I don't know of another way to say it, but- magic. Well you and Nonna"

Amory didn't have to think about his answer. He was confident and truthful "No"

"Why?"

"Because magic is your thing. Sure it's great and impressive and something that only very few people on this earth can do, but it's your thing. I don't mind not bringing characters to life, or making origami fly, I don't" Amory slowly shook his head as he said this "I-"

"Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the High Street..."

"Stop now before I kill you all. A word to the wise from your friend Pennywise"

Ophelia turned her head when she heard the voices. She tried to silence them, to listen what her father is saying but she only saw his mouth moving. She can't hear what he's saying.

"Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him. He was dead"

"Dorian Grey is my dearest friend"

"Stop" Ophelia whispered and clamped her hands over her ears. She looked up at her dad pleading for help, but he wasn't there anymore. She looked around and she was alone. It was quiet. No one was home.

She looked up at the ceiling and knew that her sister is in the attic. Juliet has always liked reading in the attic. It's her little escape place. She stood up, her hand brushing the table. She looked down and saw that the cranes were gone. All of them.

A noise was heard from the kitchen and Ophelia quickly turned around "Nonna?" She called out for her grandmother but heard nothing in response.

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?"

"We met next day as he had arranged, and inspected the rooms at No. 221B, Baker Street..."

"Stop, stop!" Ophelia cried and once again clamped her hands over her ears "stop, please"

"Do they float?"

"Float?...Oh yes, indeed they do. They float!"

"For never was there a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo"

"Ben!" Ophelia yelled out for her brother, in hopes that he would help her with silencing the voices of the books, but he did not came "Mamma! Poe!"

No one came.

It was always a nightmare of hers that she would be having a breakdown like that while alone at home. Someone was always home with her and she would feel safe. Someone would be there to help her, even if the person isn't a Silvertongue, her father and grandmother for example. But they know enough to be able to help Ophelia or Ben or Juliet.

Ophelia sat on the floor and shut her eyes, her hands tight over her ears. She then remembered what her brother told her about silencing the voices and she tried to concentrate but she couldn't. She can hear the books and their once whisper of voices are now loud eerie voices.

"They float, Georgie, and when you're down here with me, you'll float too-"

"Drown'd, drown'd...Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia..."

"Stop! Please stop. I don't wanna- I don't want to... Please!" Tears ran down Ophelia's face.

"Everything down here floats"

She yelled and cried. The books voices overlapped each other and then she heard a strong wind outside. Her heart raced and she knew what's happening.

"Juliet!" She yelled but the voices became louder "Stop! Stop! STOP!"

"No, stop. Stop!" Ophelia sat up in her bed in a cold sweat. Her breathing was fast and ragged. Her brown hair stuck to her face, either by sweat or tears. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her brown eyes scanned the dark room and she knew she's safe.

"It was just a dream" she whispered "actually, more like a nightmare" she passed a hand through her hair and sat in her bed until her breathing went back to normal and her heart calmed down.

Ophelia, no longer a teenager but a young woman in her early 20s, sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"It's been years, Ophelia, stop it" she whispered to herself. She took in a deep steady breath and reached for the glass of water on her bed stand.

The room was quiet, but not quiet for long for whispers were heard in the air. They slowly traveled to Ophelia's room and she heard them. She can hear them from a separate room and she froze. She heard the whispers, the overlapped voices and the fear came back. Ophelia set the glass of water on the nightstand and stood up to close the door.

"Incidentally, do you happen to know any nice lesbians?"

"Shut up!" Ophelia shouted and pounded her fist on the door "shut up, shut up, shut up!" She cried and slid down the door and to the floor.

"Please" she whispered, tears threatening to roll down her face "please be quiet"

But the voices came.

Ophelia tried to block the voices out just like her brother had taught her when she was thirteen, but it doesn't work anymore. No matter how hard she concentrates she can't block the voices. She always hears the voices no matter what she does.

"She was standing inside the secret garden"

Ophelia couldn't handle it anymore, she had to get the books to be quiet. She didn't want to hear them, she didn't want to see them, she didn't want to read them.

"Get rid of them" she quietly told herself "get rid of them"

Without thinking, Ophelia stood up and searched through her closet for a duffle bag. When she found one, she marched to the living room where she has a book shelf and dropped the books in the bag. She dropped all of them, not giving them a second glance. She can hear their voices but she didn't pay attention to them. All she could think about was getting rid of the books.

"No more. No more. Please, no more"

───── ⋅♛⋅ ─────

In the dark night, with no one around, silent and isolated, Ophelia dumped the books on the dirt ground in an empty lot. She let them fall out of the bag and saw them roughly hit the ground. Some opened, others didn't. Their perfect condition ruined by the way they landed. Scratches and rips already on them.

Ophelia didn't care. She has to get rid of them. She can't stand them. She can't handle them. She wants silence and that's the only way to achieve it.

The duffle bag fell with an empty thud and Ophelia grabbed the lighter fluid and poured it on the books.

"Shut up" she whispered "this is the only way" her eyes burned with tears that filled her eyes. Once Ophelia was done covering the books in lighter fluid, she pulled out a lighter and flicked the flame.

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

"You're not even a real wizard" Ophelia replied. She cannot communicate with books, and they can't communicate with her, but that's never stopped her from talking to them as if they can hear her "but that doesn't matter because I'm never reading you out. I'm never reading any of you" her voice trembled as she spoke.

"If Poe could see me he would stop me. He would be so sad, so disappointed, but I can't do it anymore. I can't" the tears finally spilled out her eyes and she cried "I can't do it anymore. I want this to stop. I want it all to stop"

"The Targaryens were all mad for fire"

Ophelia scoffed "maybe you do understand me, or I'm just hearing what I want to hear, but I don't care. You have been in my head for years and I want you all out. So yes, I will burn you. I will burn you all"

She threw the lighter on the pile and it caught on fire. The books are on fire and Ophelia could still hear them. Full sentences, incomplete sentences. Flames engulfed the books and the papers curled and turned black. The fire crackled and snapped and gave off a powerful heat.

Ophelia took a couple steps back as the heat became too much but she kept her gaze on the burning books. Slowly the voices began to diminish and her head was clearing up. No more voices. Soon there will be no more.

Burning ashes flew up and Ophelia followed them and saw them disappear in the night.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, not at herself but at the paper crane that flew above her head.