Post by Blake Riina Kildal on Apr 26, 2010 13:18:21 GMT -5
Fingers playing, moving, speed, pounding, pedal, up, down, side, in, all with its own mind.
Notes playing, together, separate, sounding, harmony, all creating….
Noise.
Noise
Noise
Noise
Everything rushing, sounding out of tune, nothing coming together as it should. All she could hear was the incessant pounding, the high annoyance of her voice. Margaret’s. It repeated itself, over and over, a constant whine that drowned out everything else, warped the rest of the world. Nothing sounded right to her, and she couldn’t fix it. It was too late.
Her fingers were turning colors and her arms hurt, but it didn’t register in her mind, her eyes closed and head down as she continued to play her music, over and over again, segueing perfectly into the next piece, no mistakes ever made in the complex pieces she was playing. There was no sheet music in front of her or even in the room for her to read, just empty space with a closed door.
She’d been here for hours now, not once having stopped, despite a few sobs that had escaped with silent tears running down her cheeks. They’d stopped now, but her eyes were red and puffy, if she opened them. Blake had snuck out of her room in the early morning, somewhere around three am and had sat down, started playing and hadn’t stopped. It was now nearing eight am somewhere and she made no move to stop or leave the room.
Useless
Pathetic
Unwanted
Alone
The words rang in her ears, even though there was no one else there to utter them. The music was loud enough that somewhere, someone could hear it, but not that she particularly cared. She just couldn’t get it to stop and go away. The music continued to flow, cycling through more and more complex pieces, a mistake hardly being made, unless it was a note held a breath too long, never once missing a note throughout her tirade.
It was an endless cycle, the music keeping going, perfect and wonderful to everyone else but her. To her it was static, a jumble, discordant sounds meshing together to form a wall of ugliness, what she seemed to see every time she looked in the mirror. She saw nothing but ugliness, something spawned from years and years of being hated, no one actually caring for the quiet girl in the back, ignoring her. Teachers, peers, blood relations, no one paid her any attention, so now she acted out. It was against her grain to go out of her way, so she sunk back into herself, quiet, shy, reserved.
She’d pretty much stopped speaking after snapping at Wren. She felt bad about it, horrible, even and had distanced herself from everyone else, sinking into the background or just staying in her room, away from people, wherever that could be. She’d stopped really eating, occasionally grabbing some crackers when the majority of the people were gone from the mess hall, she was spiraling downward and had no way of stopping it.
Blake had kicked Wren away from her, one less person to stop her. He wanted nothing to do with her and she left it that way. Dis wasn’t speaking to her, fine. She’d started avoiding him too. Rowan was busy with Bennett and no one else paid attention, which she preferred. Everyone left her alone, getting caught up in the whirlwind of their own lives, making it easier for her to slip under the radar, undetected and undeterred.
There was a slight clash as her fingers slipped, the music stopping suddenly as she opened her eyes, staring down at where her fingers rested. She glared, no longer wishing to speak anymore, and adjusted her position before beginning to play again, ignoring any pain that started creeping up. It wouldn’t be long before her fingers bled and they were useless. The thought caused her to stop suddenly, the music ending with a jarring clash of notes before she just sat on the piano bench, staring off into space.
Notes playing, together, separate, sounding, harmony, all creating….
Noise.
Noise
Noise
Noise
Everything rushing, sounding out of tune, nothing coming together as it should. All she could hear was the incessant pounding, the high annoyance of her voice. Margaret’s. It repeated itself, over and over, a constant whine that drowned out everything else, warped the rest of the world. Nothing sounded right to her, and she couldn’t fix it. It was too late.
Her fingers were turning colors and her arms hurt, but it didn’t register in her mind, her eyes closed and head down as she continued to play her music, over and over again, segueing perfectly into the next piece, no mistakes ever made in the complex pieces she was playing. There was no sheet music in front of her or even in the room for her to read, just empty space with a closed door.
She’d been here for hours now, not once having stopped, despite a few sobs that had escaped with silent tears running down her cheeks. They’d stopped now, but her eyes were red and puffy, if she opened them. Blake had snuck out of her room in the early morning, somewhere around three am and had sat down, started playing and hadn’t stopped. It was now nearing eight am somewhere and she made no move to stop or leave the room.
Useless
Pathetic
Unwanted
Alone
The words rang in her ears, even though there was no one else there to utter them. The music was loud enough that somewhere, someone could hear it, but not that she particularly cared. She just couldn’t get it to stop and go away. The music continued to flow, cycling through more and more complex pieces, a mistake hardly being made, unless it was a note held a breath too long, never once missing a note throughout her tirade.
It was an endless cycle, the music keeping going, perfect and wonderful to everyone else but her. To her it was static, a jumble, discordant sounds meshing together to form a wall of ugliness, what she seemed to see every time she looked in the mirror. She saw nothing but ugliness, something spawned from years and years of being hated, no one actually caring for the quiet girl in the back, ignoring her. Teachers, peers, blood relations, no one paid her any attention, so now she acted out. It was against her grain to go out of her way, so she sunk back into herself, quiet, shy, reserved.
She’d pretty much stopped speaking after snapping at Wren. She felt bad about it, horrible, even and had distanced herself from everyone else, sinking into the background or just staying in her room, away from people, wherever that could be. She’d stopped really eating, occasionally grabbing some crackers when the majority of the people were gone from the mess hall, she was spiraling downward and had no way of stopping it.
Blake had kicked Wren away from her, one less person to stop her. He wanted nothing to do with her and she left it that way. Dis wasn’t speaking to her, fine. She’d started avoiding him too. Rowan was busy with Bennett and no one else paid attention, which she preferred. Everyone left her alone, getting caught up in the whirlwind of their own lives, making it easier for her to slip under the radar, undetected and undeterred.
There was a slight clash as her fingers slipped, the music stopping suddenly as she opened her eyes, staring down at where her fingers rested. She glared, no longer wishing to speak anymore, and adjusted her position before beginning to play again, ignoring any pain that started creeping up. It wouldn’t be long before her fingers bled and they were useless. The thought caused her to stop suddenly, the music ending with a jarring clash of notes before she just sat on the piano bench, staring off into space.
