As the years slowly ticked by, Rhapsody felt her optimism wane. It had been over three years of the same routine every day. Aria was an easy patient to take care of. She no longer produced any kind of body waste. The doctors theorized that her constant singing was burning up all of the liquids she was receiving from the IV. She had grown skinnier, to the point that she looked like an hourglass where her waist narrowed to a tiny size. All of the tests indicated she was still healthy though.
The three women started each day by giving Aria a wash down with sponges. Pumping Aria’s legs and arms to keep her muscles from atrophying had turned into a good work out for the rest of them as well. During the first two years, Aria had spent most of her day in song as the never ending stream of hopeful people who had lost limbs or suffered from other deformities waited in a line over a mile long. The city had provided a dozen police officers to keep the line of supplicants out of the roads, as well as preventing any more attacks on Aria by fundamentalists.
After the first two years, the line had started shrinking as Aria methodically healed the masses of disabled people. They usually only had a couple dozen people a day now. Aria rarely sung any new songs anymore. They had recorded over a thousand unique melodies, each one as beautiful as the last. Her name always popped back into the headlines when she would sing a new song. The world had largely accepted Aria as a kind of divine messenger from beyond the veil. There were still plenty of fundamentalist Christian and Muslim groups that claimed she was an agent of evil, but they were by far the minority.
There were thousands of websites dedicated to Aria, as billions of people expressed their gratitude for the gift she had given to the world. Libraries and schools were naming their buildings after her as well. The ripples from her gentle touch on the world had transformed every person’s life to one degree or another.
The pharmaceutical companies were a thing of the past. Hospitals were closing down or reducing their staff to focus on just treating physical injuries. The economists who had predicted worldwide collapse after the demise of the pharmaceutical companies were sadly disappointed. Most of the scientists and doctors who had worked for the medical industry before had started a group of research centers in an attempt to decode Aria’s songs and figure out how she was healing people.
A growing group of people were proposing a new calendar that started the day Aria went into her coma. Before Aria and After Aria was how many people looked at the world now. Many of the more progressive Christians were proclaiming Aria as the vessel Christ was using for his second coming, pointing out scriptures that prophesied a thousand year period without disease and war. Rhapsody was pretty sure that nothing was going to put a stop to all of the warmongering in the world, however.
As she lay down on the king bed for the night, with Aria sandwiched between her and Melody, she felt tears fill her eyes. “Aria, please tell us what to do to bring you back to us. Please, please come back to us.”
Aria’s heart monitor sped up for a fraction of a second, confirming Rhapsody’s belief that the comatose girl could hear her. Despite the passage of three years, Aria had not continued to noticeably age. Aside from her chest developing as she matured, her legs were the only part of her body that appeared to have grown at all. They were disproportionally long compared to her torso, but it wasn’t a bad look. The public world had still never seen her face since the bandages were removed and Harmony planned on keeping it that way. When Aria woke up, she didn’t want her to be a spectacle for everyone to fawn over, especially if she didn’t remember anything.
With a heavy sigh, Rhapsody closed her eyes and let sleep pull her into its dark embrace.