• “It’s true,” he said, “It’s really true.” He stared in awe at the lone harp standing at the edge of the stone, glistening in the morning sun. Something about it called to him, but he believed it was just his imagination. Slowly and carefully, the wiry young man made his way across the slow-moving river and to the golden harp. As he was crossing, he remembered how this all started.
    He had been a famous, wealthy, greedy, and selfish harpist, his name known around the world. His face and name, Benjamin Mills, were plastered all over the walls of where he was to perform. As he came onto the stage, the applause would envelope him, and then he would begin to play. Songs so quiet and delicate they could barely be heard, and yet they moved all to tears. Songs so bold and proud that army men would be called timid compared to Ben’s music. Then one day, that all changed.
    As Ben was on his way home, a strange man in a long dark coat and hat approached him and began to speak. “Benjamin Mills. The most famous harpist in the world. Do you know why I have approached you?” the man asked. “N-no…” Ben stuttered, unsure of what would happen next. “You have been chosen to be told of a treasure unlike any other. A golden harp.” Ben’s pale yellow eyes lit up, sparkling as visions of endless wealth danced in his head, beneath his strawberry hair. “And, where might I find this legendary harp?” Ben asked casually. The man stared at Ben with his hollow, black eyes as he spoke, “Only you can find out. It has been hidden according to your life. Everything about you contains a clue. Before I go, I will warn you: Do not play it, no matter what.” And with that cryptic warning, the man slowly melted into the shadows. Ben suddenly felt very cold, and ran home.
    Back at his mansion, Ben searched though his extensive collection of books to find information about the harp. None was found. With an exasperated sigh, Ben slunk off to bed, certain that by morning he will have thought of something. That night, he had a dream. It was a memory of a vacation he had gone on to the beach when he was very young. They were all laughing and chatting, and somehow, the subject of the harp came up. “Father, what is the harp? Where is it?” “Well, Ben, the harp is very special, and nobody knows its exact location, except for me.” Ben’s father said boastfully. “It is hidden in a rain forest, deep in the heart of Africa called the Silent Forest. It is said that anyone who enters will die. But that’s just a rumor!” he said cheerfully. His father suddenly turned very grave. “But I’ve already said too much. Never tell a soul.” That was the last day Ben spent with his father. Mr. Mills was killed while riding the subway to work the next day. It derailed and crashed into the wall. Everyone escaped but him. No one knows why he was forgotten.
    Ben woke with a start. He had found the first clue. Ben shouted to his butler, “Jon! Get me a plane ticket! I need to get to Zimbabwe!” Jon looked up from his computer and logged off of his movie website. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” He called, running to get the phone. “And Jon! Write my will for me! I may never return!” Ben shouted. A sly grin slid onto ’s face. “Yes, Master Mills.” He said coolly, and idea forming in his head.
    A few hours later, Ben was on a plane to Zimbabwe. To get the ticket so soon had cost him greatly. He only had half of his savings left. When the plane landed, Ben got off and hailed a taxi. “Take me to the Silent Forest.” Ben demanded. The driver looked panicky. “No, sir, I cannot,” he said. “Is this a matter of money? Because if it is, I can offer you two thousand dollars to take me there,” Ben said, waving the money in front of the man’s face. The driver’s eyes glittered. He snatched the money and began driving. Three hours later, Ben could see the forest in the distance as the car stopped. “This is as far as I take you,” the driver said. “Alright, thank you,” muttered Ben as he got out. Ben began walking towards the forest and arrived there soon. The jungle was green with plant life, lit brightly by the sun. He could here a river burbling in the background, yet he felt as if something ominous was looming over him, waiting.
    Ben stumbled along through the thick foliage, tearing his clothes on branches jutting out here and there. He grabbed for his pocket, which held a knife, his wallet, and his cell phone, only to realize they were not there. His only chance of escape had fallen some time ago and was already buried by leaves. Undeterred, Ben continued on though the seemingly infinite forest. He had long since gone away from the sound of water, and was beginning to doubt he would ever escape.
    A fortnight passed to no avail. Ben sat, half mad, on a stump beneath a large plant as it began to rain. Ben began speaking to himself aloud: “Ben, you know you will never find it,” He said. “Yes, but I know I shall.” “But you have been stranded out here for two weeks! You shall never escape!” “Yes, but you forgot something.” “What?” “I know you know where it is,” Ben said, smiling dementedly. “N-no I don’t…” “But you do! Tell me now or I shall kill you!” “Alright! Just walk straight for a kilometer and a half, then turn right and walk another fifty feet,” Ben said resignedly. Smiling to himself, Ben stood and began walking. At the turn, Ben could hear the river, so he began to run, stumbling through the foliage. At last, he reached a clearing and nearly fainted when he saw what was there.
    The river, sparkling in the morning sun flowed quickly along, and, resting on a stone on the other bank, was the golden harp. “It’s true,” he said, “It’s really true.” With that final memory, Ben snapped back to reality. He was halfway across the river as he continued on. Stepping slowly across the treacherous, slippery stones, Ben ended up on the other side in one piece. There he stood, directly in front of the golden harp. It glittered and seemed to be saying, “Play me, Ben! Play me!” Ben stepped forward and sat upon a stone that seemed to have magically appeared, exclusively for his use. He tilted the harp back into his hands, then remembered the strange man’s warning before his search had begun: “Do not play it, no matter what.” But Ben chose to ignore the warning, drawn in by the overwhelming yearning to play the harp. Even as he plucked the first note, his fingers began to move themselves. Ben began to panic. He tried to pull away, but found that he could not. His fingers played a haunting, indescribable tune and Ben, powerless, let the music overcome him. His vision slowly filled with darkness, and he felt as if the sun had disappeared. All at once, Sean felt very cold, and then he felt nothing at all. In this infinite blackness, he heard the music, which slowly transitioned to tortured shrieks and maniacal laughter. Ben closed his eyes, desperate to escape these horrific sounds, but his attempts were futile. Ben knew he would die, and, as a last chance to escape the noise, allowed himself to be covered, and then suffocated, in the dark and the screams.
    Back at the mansion, oblivious to what was happening, Jon was almost finished writing Ben’s will. He spoke as he wrote: “I, Benjamin Mills… leave all my worldly possessions… and riches to… my butler, Jon Brown! There, finished!” Jon exclaimed as he easily forged Sean’s signature, something he’d done many times before. Jon sat back to admire his handiwork. He would soon be a millionaire, Jon thought. Many months passed and Ben still hadn’t returned. A year after his disappearance, a memorial service was held in his honor, as he was believed to be dead. After the service, Jon went straight to the courthouse. The judge read the will aloud, deemed it to be valid, and Jon went on his way as one of the wealthiest men in he world.

    Epilogue
    Ten years after Ben’s disappearance, a group of explorers, aided by a grant from the Jon Brown Organization, went into the Silent Forest to find new plants to use as medicine. They traveled for several days until they came upon a river with a charred-looking harp resting on a rock on the other side. Upon closer inspection, a human skeleton, still with bits of flesh on the bones, was found lying next to it. The explorers placed the corpse in a sack and brought it with them to donate to science. The identity of the corpse was never uncovered, but some say it was the body of the legendary Benjamin Mills, the man who disappeared looking for the golden harp.