TW: Mentions of abuse.

The music never failed to be my alarm clock.

Every morning, I wake up to the sound of music playing in my neighbor's house. We all used to complain about it, but now we're used to it. 

Gopal had told us that the music they play was of his father's choice. I complimented them on their great taste in music and told them that I look forward to waking up every morning to it.

There was something off about his smile that day, but I brushed it off as nervousness for that day's Mathematics exam.

This morning... I woke up to something odd.

There was no music.

There were only screams.

I hastily went towards my window and saw that there are police cars and an ambulance in front of Gopal's house.

I watched, agape, as the front door open to reveal a screaming and struggling Mr. Kumar being led by two buff-looking police officers. 

But what made me nearly collapse in shock was the scene behind them.

It was the paramedics... carrying my best friend's dead body.

I just stood there, frozen, as the Kumars were brought away from their home. Tok Aba found me in that position.

"BoBoiBoy..." he called softly.

"Atok..." I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes. "What happened?"

As Tok Aba explained the situation, I realized something.

The music was made to cover the screams.

It was the sound of Gopal's silence.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Woohoo! I'm alive!

Okay, I actually thought of this story when I was doing the laundry earlier. I had music blasting loudly on my speaker, and my mom was scolding me from her room.

The music covered up most of her scolding, and that's when I got this idea.

Heh. I may have updated, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be active. To be honest, I'm on a case of writer's block. I want to write, but I can't find the motivation to do so.

Anyway, hope you like this *dark* oneshot.

Lovelots,

Glace, the Queen of Angst