A Melody.
It pierced through the darkness that had swallowed me whole, and submerged my existence as the dark sea submerges ships that have lost the battle against its waves.
Was it a finger I could first feel?
Or was it the breeze brushing against my skin?
I’m not sure.
But nothing anchored me more than this sound I could still hear ringing so beautifully.
I felt my fingers and the surface of my skin, and quickly the sensations returned to me.
I felt like I was on my back, something gently whooshing around me...softly.
The smell followed next, the tastefulness of which I had never felt.
In a way, every breath seemed to draw the melody deeper into me, and the deeper I breathed, the more each breath allowed me to take in.
I felt...peace.
So much peace, even though I feel like I have my eyelids under my control, I was somehow reluctant to open them.
I wanted to be like this...for eternity.
But as I took my breath, and the melody grew louder, something in me became restless with a wish:
To know where this melody came from.
What type of soul could be capable of such sound?
What does it look like?
Is it a male or a female?
If I sit closer, would I be able to hear even clearly?
Before I knew it, my eyes flew open, the sight of a cloudless blue sky welcoming me.
I sat up to my butt, and I finally knew what was whoosing around me.
They were roses.
Their stalks were implanted into the ground while their blooms brushed around merrily.
Nothing in the world could convince me that they weren’t dancing to the melody, and even the breeze only aided them in it.
I looked all around me, and everywhere I gazed was filled with these roses, everywhere my eyes could see.
And in the air were tiny golden balls that all flew forward towards a place where the Melody was coming from.
It was the direction my feet were facing.
I pushed off the ground with my hands and began walking forward.
That simple action confirmed it for me:
The more I moved forward, the more I could feel the melody growing.
It was so soothing, so pure, I never knew when it happened:
I started to run.
How fast was I going?
Mach 1?
Mach 100?
700?
But the world wasn’t whooshing by, nor was the breeze chaotic.
The only thing I knew was that the melody grew as I ran, never for once distorted at all, only clearer.
The balls hovering in the air seemed to be in the same race as I was, also moving forward towards wherever this heavenly melody could be playing from.
They were like a guide of sorts as the more I ran forward, the more they also congregated.
I kept running, following the melody, reassured by the congregation, and I eventually came to find it.
The silhouette of a tree with leaves of gold.
I couldn’t care that its height was about three times greater than mine, nor its mushroom-like shape, nor its special features like golden runes etched over its surface pulsing like a heartbeat.
My eyes were on a figure sitting on one of its branches, legs swinging in the air.
His body was facing the other side, and all I could see was his or her back, draped in a white garment, with his neck covered by flowing pink hair.
But on his shoulder, there was a Violin, tucked beneath the chin, its bow gliding across the strings.
It was the source of the melody.
By the devil, I have never felt this satisfied from having a conjecture of mine proven right.
Now that I was closer, the melody indeed was a million times clearer and better.
It seemed to pull me in, to whisper me a story of some sort that I could hear, growing clearer the further it played.
I didn’t move closer, but instead took a seat, and then fell onto my back once more, my eyes closing as I sank in deeper to these whispers.
I saw a dream.
There was a boy, his beauty bordering on that of femininity, with hair of pink, and a body frame that seemed to glisten with the air.
He ran around a garden of roses and petals, and all around him were beasts, some small, some big, but if one thing was absolute, it was that in one way or the other, they were covered in scales....draconic scales.
Giggles and loud laughter left this boy’s lips as he ran around these beasts who swoop in at him from every angle, like a hawk would swoop to catch its food.
But neither their colossal maws nor their deadly sharp claws made even the slightest mark on the boy, never really coming in contact with his skin, no matter how close they seemed to come.
The melody I knew was still ringing.
That familiar melody, but in a way, why does it seem to have...improved?
It sounded twice as beautiful, twice as soothing, and as I looked around for its source, I found a familiar tree on which an unfamiliar woman sat.
A woman in a gown of red, glowing hands of milky white, cradling a familiar violin that gave out this melody.
Her eyes looked at the boy with motherly love.
Somehow, as I looked into her pupils, all I could see was the image of the boy; not even the draconic creatures that swooned all around him could be seen, nor the petals all around.
In a way, it gave the illusion that only the boy truly existed, though my eyes still saw the truth.
"Is this the height of love?" I found myself asking:
"Where nothing in the world existed but that being loved."
I could stay here for all eternity, watching a mother playing a beautiful melody while her son runs around a garden of roses and petals with joyous giggles and laughter.
Oh, how peaceful this life was.
But nothing beautiful ever lasts for long.
Eventually, the swooning draconic beasts disappeared, one after the other, reduced to golden balls.
The petals and roses on the ground also disappeared, leaving the land barren.
And that beautiful woman faded away, too.
The violin dropped to the ground, and the boy stopped running, bringing the giggles and laughter to a stop.
He looked around him, like one who had lost his memories, moving forward to the only thing that was present:
The Violin.
And he sat, right then and there, starting to play, with that smile appearing on his lips once more.
He continued...silently...eternally.