Magnum Opus

Cannon Fodder
Joined: October 8th, 2012, 9:28 pm

October 12th, 2012, 12:53 am #1

Emin7, Cmaj7, Dmaj7, Bmin7...

The chords rang out across the girl's spacious bedroom, echoing faintly as they collided with the walls surrounding. Her fingers gently stroked the keys, giving the chords a soft, warm sound, reflecting the girl's mindset. The accidental note of the major D chord gave the melody a slightly dissonant feel, but rather than being one of abrupt and unsubtle nature, it fit perfectly into her song, giving it a slightly mournful tone.

E, G, A, B, C, B, A, C, B, G, E...

The notes were played atop the chords with careful precision. Listening to the song she was creating, the girl began to reminisce about her curious, lonely childhood. She found that most of her inspiration came from both the stories she read, and her own life. With a soft sigh, she continued to press against the keys, thinking up new melodies as she went along.

A, G, F#, E, A, G, F#, E, D, F#...

The girl continued to think about her life as she grew older, her failed attempts to meet others. She remembered how much it hurt her to be thought of as a loner, a freak, a shut-in. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know how to be an extrovert. She tried being one, and it only hurt her in the end. The girl quietly wished people would realize this before labeling her. Moving her right hand an octave up, she began to play a bit more quietly.

E, F#, G, A, E, F#, G, B, E, F#, G, A, B, C, D, A...

She slowly progressed upward in a repetitive scale, which sounded as though it had crawled too high and began to fall. As she played this mournful melody atop the melancholy chords and remembered her own attempt to try so hard only to end up worse than before, the girl began to press on the notes more forcefully, subtly making the scale grow in passion.

E, G, A, B, C, B, A, C, B, G, E...

The melody from before returned, but this time, stronger and more emotional. The quiet chords from before were now large and overwhelming, the lead keys nearly pounding. The girl was finding it hard to calm herself down in this passionate state, repeating the same eight bars at a growing tempo. She could feel sweat sliding down her arms and forehead, but continued to play until she ended the song in a single, climactic chord.


She let the chord ring out for several seconds. It was an octave below her first chords, a hollow, low tone that the girl could feel as much as she could hear. Once the chord had fully lost it's volume, she slowly pulled her hand off of the keys that were now moist with sweat. Wiping her forehead with her arm and letting out a long sigh, she turned around and laid in bed. She looked over at her notebook, decorated with the name "Sara Corlett," and began to look at the empty pages, ready to fill them with words.
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Sara Corlett - (Donated to TurtleTyrant)