My Head Like A Melody Novels & Stories

I nodded doubtfully putting back the earbud. Oh my gosh! That is some voice the guy got there. It was sweet and melodic. I turned to Jimin who was staring at me fondly. I gave him a super sign and turned back on closing my eyes enjoying the music in my ears. That song somehow went right to my heart and I didn't even know the reason. I didn't bother to interpret the meaning but just flowed through. Something was blooming and whimpering inside me hearing the melody. Almost like a long-lost spring came back to me after years.

A piece of pleasant music played using a piano sounded on Dylan's ears. Its rhythm isn't hurried nor too slow. It's just right to make one's heart calm and put one's mind in a tranquil state. The melody sounds so serene, similar to that of a lullaby that puts the listener at ease. A melody sounds so serene that Dylan is willing to listen to it forever without getting tired of it.

It's grown back since. I bring my knees to my chest. A heavyweight tightens within my chest, a heavy invisible weight of grief consumes me. I listen to Fur Elise by Beethoven. This is the anthem of my demise. I can no longer tolerate its tune in my ears. I want to break the speakers. The mid-section of the song is where I fell. I close my eyes and listen intently. The music pauses. "A prodigy is among our class. This is Ashley Tudor." The class looks at me, expecting someone more important. I have no idea what is going on.

Music became the language through which I could convey my deepest joys and sorrows. So I will be playing the melody of Dandelions by Ruth B. My fingers trembled with anticipation as I pressed the first key, producing a sound that seemed foreign and discordant. It was clear that my touch was not enough to produce the harmonious melodies I had envisioned. Undeterred, I continued to press each key, determined to improve the synchronicity of the notes and create a beautiful composition.

Celine whispered in Vicky's ear, "I'm sorry, I'm leaving abroad soon. Your stupid best friend is gone forever. She's dead now. What else can she do to me? "She was just too stupid to fall in love with Dustin. And you, just like your best friend, are equally stupid!" Vicky screamed. She stretched out her hand and pulled Celine's hair against the wall. Dustin pulled Celine back into the room. Bang, the door was shut. Vicky continued screaming outside the door, shouting loudly for Dustin to open the door. Dustin was unmoved. Celine stepped forward with her eyes all red and said pitifully, "I'm sorry, Dustin, maybe I shouldn't have come back. If I had stayed abroad, I would not have caused Saman

My thoughts are restless and my heart is beating more quickly. A gentle, melodious music flows through the atmosphere. I initially believe I'm dreaming. My skin prickles with uneasiness as the eerie music gets louder and clearer. My body gravitates toward the door on its own. Aria (was thinking): "Why am I unable to stop? What's going on with me? I should not go, I know. The melody is like a magnet, drawing me in and making me follow the voice despite my senses telling me to stay inside.

An emotional mess. My eyes... it was like I'd turned on a faucet and just let the water run. My chest was tight, like every breath hurt more than the last. —But like in your letters, Ossoclu, I have a song too. Or maybe I should say... I'd heard it before, but I never felt it the way I do now. I pull out my phone, unlock it, and open Spotify to search for the song. The melody begins to play, so nostalgic and haunting.

We all sing. “Replay-ay-ay, Replay-ay-ay, You got my, got my, Heart on replay.” Mel sings while Haz and I sing the adlibs. “Thought I’d be fine, I was doing great, Then your story popped up its fate. You said, “remember this song we made?” Now I’m dancing in the mess we made.” Haz and Mel sings. “My heart’s a record that skips time, Spinning circles, losing my mind. I know I should press stop

I hit the last chord and let it hang. Silence washes in. “Huh,” I say, breathless. “Didn’t die.” “For the record,” he says, voice rougher than before, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that melody and not wanted to put a bullet in someone’s head.” “That’s high praise,” I say. “In your dialect.” He doesn’t smile. His eyes are fixed on me like I just did something he didn’t think was possible. “You changed it,” he says. “Enough that my brain recognized it and couldn’t… attach the same memories.”

Leo inquires. “I think so.” A smile sneaks on Melody’s face as she speaks. The front door creaks a little as she pushes it open. Melody’s chestnut hair flows in the morning sea breeze, the aquamarine Atlantic waves, roll and crash, and salty air bears hints of honeysuckle. Savoring a moment by the beach, peace is all she feels.