My Head Like A Melody Mga Nobela at Kwento

~Rosemary~ A faint sound of music penetrated my sense of hearing. It was a hit rock song by a famous band. I used to love listening to this song, but the pain in my head distracted me. My head was so dizzy that it made me frown. I wanted to touch my head but couldn't move my hands.

It marked my entrance into the renowned Elite High School, a place rumored to hold the power to redefine destinies for the better. In the quiet of my room, a familiar melody pierced the stillness. The opening strains of "Save Me" by BTS spilled from my lips as if on impulse, the lyrics capturing the unspoken emotions that swirled within me. Music had always been my sanctuary, a faithful companion that offered solace when words failed.

I said, tilting my head at it. "Well, now you do." She dropped her bag on the floor, crossed the room, and set the needle down with the practiced ease of someone who had done it a thousand times. A warm, unhurried melody filled the room immediately — the kind of music that made the air feel slower. "Do you like it?" she asked. "Yeah, actually," I said, settling onto the edge of her bed. "I used to put Beethoven on when I needed to focus back in Boston. Something about it just — cleared my head."

Please make your choice. The prompt came again. I closed my eyes and made up my mind. "I'm going home." There was nothing left here worth staying for, no one left worth saving. [Exchange complete. Passage home will now open.] As the words settled, the sky shifted. A crimson glow spread overhead as the earth began to tremble, a deep rumble rolling beneath our feet. "It's a sign from the heavens!" The crowd erupted in celebration. People cheered, pointed at the sky, and praised what they believed was a blessing.

Anything to break the a‍gonizin⁠g pressur‍e of the s‍ilence. Finally, I reached for my‍ he⁠adphones. I needed to d‌rown out‍ the sou‍nd of my own pul⁠s‌e. I‌ pu‍t on L‍ana Del Rey, le⁠tting the cin‍ematic, tragic swe⁠l‍l of her voice was⁠h‍ over me. Ultraviolence bled into‌ Honeymoon. The slow, hazy melodies acted like a physical weight. It was musi‍c for peopl‍e who were used to⁠ the rain. Mus‌i‍c for wo‌men who sought out the fire and wondered why they ended up burned.

That's when I heard it. I heard the humming of a melody playing in the back of my mind. Like the music box I had when I was six but this melody felt like I knew it even before then. It was at the tip of my tongue but I couldn't place my finger on exactly what my brain wanted me to remember, it was so distant but yet so close. I began humming the melody aloud, trying desperately for some unknown reason for the memory to be triggered by the song but all that formed in my mind were words that I think were for the song. So like any other person who's running out of time, I sang it.

Although there were branches to cushion the blow, the streetlight still hit Melody's head. "Melody!" Charlotte screamed, aghast. "Son! Mom’s here, where are you?!" shouted a woman, evidently looking for her lost child. The little boy stopped crying after hearing his mother's voice, and broke away from Melody's arms. "Mom!" A loud bang followed; Melody felt a sharp pain on her head, and immediately fell unconscious. As she blacked out, a wave of unfamiliar memories flooded into her mind in messy fragments, overwhelming her.

Finally, I forced myself towards the source of the music, each step a silent question mark. The music, a familiar melody by one of my favourites, drifted up from downstairs. Relief washed over me, momentarily drowning the pounding in my chest. I hummed along, the song's positive message a soothing balm. But a sliver of unease remained a cold prickle at the back of my neck. "We are Unity!" I sang a little too loudly, hoping to chase away the shadows lingering at the edge of my perception. The music swelled, momentarily obscuring any other sound.

So many unfulfilled puzzles, none close to completion. He had to talk to her. He sat in his car, and soon he halted at the apartment. As soon as he entered the house, he heard a melodious tune. He didn’t know much about the violin, but he was sure it was a violin note, “And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody, it won't leave my head. Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine, But I wish I were dead,” he heard a tuneful voice sing. If he weren’t a stone-cold bastard, that voice would stir tears in someone’s eyes, so painful and full of life, but he is not a stone to be melted by the music.

She starts humming and the melody is soothing to my senses. I don’t understand the words but they mean something in my head. It feels like something I should know but have forgotten. As I am listening to her melodic sounds I can feel my head getting drowsy again, my arms are starting to tingle with pins and needles and my body feels like there is a weight covering the whole thing pressing me down.