sjsprWriting
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Unfinished Short Story
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When the daughter of the God of Music was young, the God would play her a happy, calm tune every night on his harp to help her fall asleep and have good dreams. The little girl loved her father’s music, it made her feel joy that she wanted others to experience, and so when she went to sleep each night she would dream of making others happy just as her father made her happy.
During the day, while the music god’s daughter was being tutored, the God would wander the world to spread music and find adventure! He was a romantic at heart and wooed just about every mortal and immortal female that crossed paths with his music. His heart, however, remained only with his little girl- the daughter of his first true love. Never being able to love them back, he would eventually leave each woman that fell in love with him, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts, sad tunes and melodies from many beings around the world. This caught the attention of a certain love goddess, the music god’s wife. No, not his first love, but an arranged marriage that was agreed between the immortals’ parents.
The goddess did not appreciate the sadness that her husband had instilled in the lives of the young women he wooed, so she confronted him and told him so. The god, however, ignored her, insisting that he was running late and needed to put his daughter to sleep. The goddess was livid. That good for nothing god of music was breaking hearts, and by his lack of reaction to the confrontation, she assumed that he would continue to break more, but she swore it would not be…
That night the proud father returned home to his daughter who was more than happy to see him. She started to talk about her lessons, the new music she had learned, and all of the things that she hoped to dream about that night. As the daughter continued to talk excitedly, the god sat down next to the girl’s bed and played a calm tune on his harp. The longer he played, the more tired the girl became. She stopped talking and fell asleep with a smile on her face as the light and happy music filled her dreams. Sure that she was in a deep sleep, the god kissed his daughter’s head lovingly and left.
After the god exited his daughter’s room, a dark shadow appeared. Concealed by a cloak, the figure entered the room, pulled out a dark red flute, and began to play a sad and scary song that made the child stir in her sleep. She gripped her sheets tightly and whimpered as a nightmare began to form. Immune to the dark, dreary tune the God of Music slept on peacefully as the music became so loud and enchanting that it carried itself to his room. Yet the God's deep slumber left him unaware of the intruder.
The god of music rose with the dawn and went to his daughter’s room before he left for that day’s adventures. When he entered the room, however, he saw that something was amiss. His daughter was usually up bright and early like him, but here she was sleeping in her bed with a frown on her paling face. He tried to wake her up but failed to do so. Fearing the worst the God of Music called the best healers known to immortal kind to cure his daughter of what seemed to be a never-ending nightmare, but each failed in turn to do so.
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Her father was in a frenzy, then. He'd beg each healer to rid his daughter of this malady. Years and years, day by day, this poor, aching God never gave up on her.
One day - as was custom - he went up to check on her, and was mesmerized at the sight. She had awakened! As he went over to embrace her, something stopped him. She wasn't as before. There was no smile on her face, no happiness at all. There was darkness around her. The God asked what was wrong and if she was feeling alright. She did not reply. She stood from the bed - not a word being spoken - and she picked up her instrument. A horrifying sound came from the strings, petrifying her father. He collapsed, and she watched in utter ecstasy.
From that day on, she set out to fill every person with the terrors she had seen in her sleep.
One day - as was custom - he went up to check on her, and was mesmerized at the sight. She had awakened! As he went over to embrace her, something stopped him. She wasn't as before. There was no smile on her face, no happiness at all. There was darkness around her. The God asked what was wrong and if she was feeling alright. She did not reply. She stood from the bed - not a word being spoken - and she picked up her instrument. A horrifying sound came from the strings, petrifying her father. He collapsed, and she watched in utter ecstasy.
From that day on, she set out to fill every person with the terrors she had seen in her sleep.
you could write an ending that says something like: the only way his daughter could wake up from the nightmare was if he put back together all the broken hearts or if he found a woman that he really loved and would never break her heart.
Months passed, and the daughter was still sleeping. Her father had tried everything, talked to every person who could potentially save her. Yet she was still in her sleep. Her father had stopped playing music since the night before she went to sleep, and the whole kingdom's morale seemed to be low. He couldn't keep playing if his daughter couldn't hear him, until one day, a wise god told him that she could hear. Her father started playing music and then, after a couple of hours, she woke up because that's the thing about music, it saves you.
Cecilia Beatriz says...
You could write an ending in which she does not wake up for many years. Then, she awakens with the power to make horrifying music. Thus, it is the birth of the nightmare.
^ I totally concur with that.
The god of music soon realized that his daughter was being punished for all the hearts he had broken. To correct his mistakes, he had to find every single woman he had broken and apologize with sincerity and only then would his daughter awake. After months of searching the god of music completed his task and his daughter came back to conscious life.
Failure to reawaken the girl was due to the simple fact that she was not only sleeping, but she was within the nightmare. She was lost in the depth of her own mind, in her deepest and darkest thoughts. Thoughts that had been uncovered when the somber figure played the dark red flute. It was a nightmare composed of thoughts she never had had access to. Now, she was lost in a labyrinth; able only to return once she figured out how to be rid of her darkest thoughts once and for all. But to do that was a whole journey in itself, one that would take time to complete before she could return from her nightmare. The God of Music realized this soon enough. And he still comes to her room every night to play her the harp, waiting patiently for his daughter to return.
100 years came and 100 years passed, but not a single healer came even close to reviving the young music demigod. And so, the god of music turned to a different ideal. He began hiring witches and warlocks to place their unstable spells upon his daughter, a fate that only a desperate father would turn to, but still came no relief. The daughter aged slowly in her slumber and her father grew even more forlorn as he sought
guidance from the oracle he served.
"Take her to her mother's home, where wealth and happiness is shown. Breath her soul into her aunts womb, this will evade her from her tomb."
Almost immediately, the god of music packed his daughters soul into his hands and made his way to his first love's kingdom, where her sister still lived with her husband. Once there, he breathed his daughters soul into the sister's seemingly pregnant belly while she was at rest. The sister gave birth to a beautiful princess named Aurora with a certain love for music and dance. The god of music was no longer a part of her life, but for the first time in a long time, the god of music was at rest.
For now.
guidance from the oracle he served.
"Take her to her mother's home, where wealth and happiness is shown. Breath her soul into her aunts womb, this will evade her from her tomb."
Almost immediately, the god of music packed his daughters soul into his hands and made his way to his first love's kingdom, where her sister still lived with her husband. Once there, he breathed his daughters soul into the sister's seemingly pregnant belly while she was at rest. The sister gave birth to a beautiful princess named Aurora with a certain love for music and dance. The god of music was no longer a part of her life, but for the first time in a long time, the god of music was at rest.
For now.
He had time to reflect upon what he did wrong. Did his daughter just didn?t like the music anymore or was it someone who and intruded the house. The God of Music remembered hearing a slight music tone during the night. He was thereby able to conclude that the goddess had something to do with his nightmare. After all she wasn?t able to confront him. He would quickly go to his wife to rescue her daughter. If she wasn?t able to vanished the nightmare from his daughter than he would kill her.
He went to his wife and explained if she had anything to do with his daughter nightmare. His wife rejected and started declaring how inconsiderate The God of Music has become. From the eyes of his wife, he know she was lying so he forced her to rejuvenate his daughters health. He told his wife that he would kill her if she didn?t. The wife having no choose finally went to the daughter and cured her from the nightmare. He then vanished his wife and finally lived happily after.
He went to his wife and explained if she had anything to do with his daughter nightmare. His wife rejected and started declaring how inconsiderate The God of Music has become. From the eyes of his wife, he know she was lying so he forced her to rejuvenate his daughters health. He told his wife that he would kill her if she didn?t. The wife having no choose finally went to the daughter and cured her from the nightmare. He then vanished his wife and finally lived happily after.
The god was dumbfounded. He tried playing a sweet, joyous melody that would counter the somber music that afflicted her, but he couldn't. Every note he played reflected his sadness, his fear, his wrath, and his hopelessness. And from this discordant melody, he too fell into a deep nightmare.
Many days an many nights passed and not a single person, mortal or immortal could appease the God and awake his daughter. From that night on, the God of Music did not make a single happy tune or song, with the exception of in his daughters presence. He sang and played music every day to attempt to awake her, using all known instruments. As the God of Love looked at the results of her actions she did not feel guilt or regret, only love for her decisions and love for the out come. She believed that her actions were done for the better, so even if one God was unable to obtain happiness, it would allow many other loves to flourish.
In his search for solutions for his daughters never ending nightmare, he came across the exact flute that the God of Love had used to put her in the deep sleep. By playing on that exact instrument, except in this case a happy tune, The daughters pale, frowned face began to fill with color and slowly change the frown to a blank stare. After many nights of continuous playing, the daughter eventually awoke. The feeling that the God of Music felt was incomparable, his heart grew with joy. That was until he saw the expression upon his daughters face.
The God examined her expression and his joy soon dwindled as he could tell something was wrong. The light had been blown out from her eyes and he could tell the joy of music was no longer in her soul. He asked her what had happened but she uttered no response and continued with the blank stare.
The daughter never uttered another word, tune, or melody again, as if the seemingly eternal nightmare had damaged her soul and love for music. With out the joy of his daughter's joy, the God of Music felt even worse than he did as her daughter was asleep. The joyous music that once flowed through the immortal kingdom, was never heard again, all due to the God of Love's love for vengeance.
In his search for solutions for his daughters never ending nightmare, he came across the exact flute that the God of Love had used to put her in the deep sleep. By playing on that exact instrument, except in this case a happy tune, The daughters pale, frowned face began to fill with color and slowly change the frown to a blank stare. After many nights of continuous playing, the daughter eventually awoke. The feeling that the God of Music felt was incomparable, his heart grew with joy. That was until he saw the expression upon his daughters face.
The God examined her expression and his joy soon dwindled as he could tell something was wrong. The light had been blown out from her eyes and he could tell the joy of music was no longer in her soul. He asked her what had happened but she uttered no response and continued with the blank stare.
The daughter never uttered another word, tune, or melody again, as if the seemingly eternal nightmare had damaged her soul and love for music. With out the joy of his daughter's joy, the God of Music felt even worse than he did as her daughter was asleep. The joyous music that once flowed through the immortal kingdom, was never heard again, all due to the God of Love's love for vengeance.
After each failed attempt, his heart grew heavier, sinking down to his stomach and never resurfacing. He was left clueless, not even a hint on what could have happened, what to do. So he left her in this state, for days on end, till days steadily became weeks of months of years. He left her alone. And when he did, he never noticed the dark shadow slipping into the creek of her bedroom door, never noticed the ominous music that floated in the air.
He didn't know what possessed him to check up on her after all of these years, but he did, a creeping feeling in his chest that he just had to do. When he opened the door, the sleeping figure he always expected to be there was gone. He approached the bed, and sank to his knees. He weeped.
Oh darling, what beautiful music you would have made.
He didn't know what possessed him to check up on her after all of these years, but he did, a creeping feeling in his chest that he just had to do. When he opened the door, the sleeping figure he always expected to be there was gone. He approached the bed, and sank to his knees. He weeped.
Oh darling, what beautiful music you would have made.
Hopeless and filled with despair, the God tore through the castle's halls, weeping and tearing the sheets of music his daughter had studied so lovingly. His woe grew so strong, that he cast himself off to the human world, no longer wanting to be reminded of his daughter's unknown fate.
He roamed the lands of mankind without destination, perusing through cities and valleys alike. Until one day, a distant melody caught his attention, pulling him closer and closer as it crescendoed, filling his heart with an unknown recognition of the melody. The same three chords over and over. He reached the source of the familiar tune, a young boy in a small village whom played on his worn guitar.
He asked the boy where he'd hear the tune, desperately grasping at the clinging memories of his daughter he had so long repressed. The boy responded, "In a dream I've re-lived since I can remember, of a girl who comes singing her melody with her voice so sweet. In my dreams she comes and takes me away to her land, where I play for her as she sings and grants me a smile. Lately, however, she's hasn't come back, so I play her tune each and every day so I never forget. And when she comes back, I can play it again."
The God filled up with hope of a love that could save, and hugging the boy took him far, far away. He brought him to his daughter, still deep in her slumber, and asked him to play her melody for her. He took out his guitar, and struck the first chord, and just that was all that it took to wake her up once more. She sprouted from bed and began to sing along, grinning at her father as he held her close. Then she went to the boy, the friend she had missed, and to finish their song, they wistfully kissed.
He roamed the lands of mankind without destination, perusing through cities and valleys alike. Until one day, a distant melody caught his attention, pulling him closer and closer as it crescendoed, filling his heart with an unknown recognition of the melody. The same three chords over and over. He reached the source of the familiar tune, a young boy in a small village whom played on his worn guitar.
He asked the boy where he'd hear the tune, desperately grasping at the clinging memories of his daughter he had so long repressed. The boy responded, "In a dream I've re-lived since I can remember, of a girl who comes singing her melody with her voice so sweet. In my dreams she comes and takes me away to her land, where I play for her as she sings and grants me a smile. Lately, however, she's hasn't come back, so I play her tune each and every day so I never forget. And when she comes back, I can play it again."
The God filled up with hope of a love that could save, and hugging the boy took him far, far away. He brought him to his daughter, still deep in her slumber, and asked him to play her melody for her. He took out his guitar, and struck the first chord, and just that was all that it took to wake her up once more. She sprouted from bed and began to sing along, grinning at her father as he held her close. Then she went to the boy, the friend she had missed, and to finish their song, they wistfully kissed.
Hopeless and filled with despair, the God tore through the castle's halls, weeping and tearing the sheets of music his daughter had studied so lovingly. His woe grew so strong, that he cast himself off to the human world, no longer wanting to be reminded of his daughter's unknown fate.
He roamed the lands of mankind without destination, perusing through cities and valleys alike. Until one day, a distant melody caught his attention, pulling him closer and closer as it crescendoed, filling his heart with an unknown recognition of the melody. The same three chords over and over. He reached the source of the familiar tune, a young boy in a small village whom played on his worn guitar.
He asked the boy where he'd hear the tune, desperately grasping at the clinging memories of his daughter he had so long repressed. The boy responded, "In a dream I've re-lived since I can remember, of a girl who comes singing her melody with her voice so sweet. In my dreams she comes and takes me away to her land, where I play for her as she sings and grants me a smile. Lately, however, she's hasn't come back, so I play her tune each and every day so I never forget. And when she comes back, I can play it again."
The God filled up with hope of a love that could save, and hugging the boy took him far, far away. He brought him to his daughter, still deep in her slumber, and asked him to play her melody for her. He took out his guitar, and struck the first chord, and just that was all that it took to wake her up once more. She sprouted from bed and began to sing along, grinning at her father as he held her close. Then she went to the boy, the friend she had missed, and to finish their song, they wistfully kissed.
He roamed the lands of mankind without destination, perusing through cities and valleys alike. Until one day, a distant melody caught his attention, pulling him closer and closer as it crescendoed, filling his heart with an unknown recognition of the melody. The same three chords over and over. He reached the source of the familiar tune, a young boy in a small village whom played on his worn guitar.
He asked the boy where he'd hear the tune, desperately grasping at the clinging memories of his daughter he had so long repressed. The boy responded, "In a dream I've re-lived since I can remember, of a girl who comes singing her melody with her voice so sweet. In my dreams she comes and takes me away to her land, where I play for her as she sings and grants me a smile. Lately, however, she's hasn't come back, so I play her tune each and every day so I never forget. And when she comes back, I can play it again."
The God filled up with hope of a love that could save, and hugging the boy took him far, far away. He brought him to his daughter, still deep in her slumber, and asked him to play her melody for her. He took out his guitar, and struck the first chord, and just that was all that it took to wake her up once more. She sprouted from bed and began to sing along, grinning at her father as he held her close. Then she went to the boy, the friend she had missed, and to finish their song, they wistfully kissed.
Hundreds of years passed, and on one fateful day, the God of Music's daughter awoke on her own. During her sleep, she had transitioned into a beautiful woman-- old enough to be wed-- but her eyes lacked the light they once held. The God of Music ran to her, and kissed her forehead over and over, whispering to her under his breath.
Years of endless nightmares had emptied her, however, and her eyes remained open for only moments before collapsing like a dying star.
And on that day, the God of Music learned the sound a heart makes when it breaks.
Years of endless nightmares had emptied her, however, and her eyes remained open for only moments before collapsing like a dying star.
And on that day, the God of Music learned the sound a heart makes when it breaks.
The distraught God of Music sat by his daughter's bed for years. He sat through her screams and tears, he sat through her whimpers and pained moans, and for years he held her hand, kissed her head and played her music. For the first time, his music held no power. He grew old and weary, with lines on his face and graying hair and though he could not die, at times he found himself wishing he could. His wife watched this all with a calculating eye, as the God of Music's heart slowly broke apart and crumbled. She was glad then, that perhaps he finally understood the desolation that all those women he had used felt, and the powerlessness that his illegitimate children faced. Perhaps he had truly learned, and she hoped it was so, but she knew the child would not wake up until the God of Music lost his heart.
Because one cannot play music without a heart.
And so for years she watched his progress into a shadow of his former glory, until one day, his daughter opened her mouth. She saw his spirits soar with hope, hope that maybe she could speak to him now, tell him what was wrong, how he could help her. And then she wailed. She wailed and wailed and the God's heart shattered at the sound.
He lay crumbled at her bedside, sobbing, muttering to himself, "Oh, my child, my child." There was pity in his wife's heart, but she understood this was the only way to protect those that prayed to her. She had her duties, after all. She walked past the sobbing God and placed a loving hand on the girl's head. She shushed and caressed her, the way a mother would, and the girl began to quiet down until she was completely silent. The Goddess turned away from them, knowing soon the God would experience joy once more.
The girl became aware of a heart-breaking sound, and at first she thought it was music. Oh, her father was playing for her, expressing his pain. She blinked her eyes open and understood the sound was not his music. She reached across the bed with a shaking hand and touched her father's trembling shoulder. He jumped up then and she gasped in horror. Her eyes frantically searched his face, noting all the differences in her father's face. How long had she been asleep? The dreams seemed to be slipping away from her already. Her father gazed at her in shock and then swept her up into a great embrace. Tears slid down his face but for the first time in years, they were not tears of pain. They laughed together, as father and daughter reunited. He spun her around and dropped kisses on her head.
"Father!" she laughed, "play for me, please. It's been so long since I've truly heard your music."
He dropped one last kiss to her head and picked up his harp. His laughter died down immediately as he stared at his harp in confusion. It felt wrong, somehow. His harp for so long had felt like an extension of him, and now it seemed unfamiliar, foreign. He tried to play and the music would not come. A stone seemed to rise up and clog his throat. He could no longer play, he knew. He had lost what had given him his power. He dropped his harp and stared at his daughter. How had he gained one thing he loved, only to lose another?
"I'm so sorry, my daughter, I'm so sorry." He placed a hand over his chest and could feel the fragments of his heart. She looked at him in bewildered concern.
"Father, why can't you play? What happened?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on his arm. He drew away from her, "One cannot play music without a heart. Heart is the soul and body of a song, and without it, all you can do is play chords," he said in disgust.
She understood then, that her sleep had given him grief beyond his capacity to handle. She understood that because of her, her father could no longer bring happiness to people with his lovely music. She had robbed the world of his presence.
He smiled sadly at her, "Don't worry, my dear. The only thing that matters is that you're all right."
She didn't think that was really all that mattered. She wasn't as great as his music, after all. She stepped away from and walked towards her dresser. Her father stared after her in confusion. She looked through her dresser before pulling out a glinting dagger.
"What are you doing with that?" her father asked, apprehension creeping along his spine. She stared down at her dagger; it had been a gift from her father, for self-defense. She kept it by her bedside, just in case.
"I think the world needs you, father," she said. And horror bloomed in the God of Music. She dug the knife into her chest and bit down a scream. He leaped towards her, but it was already too late. Blood spilled down her front as she carved out her heart and held it out to him.
And yet, she smiled through the pain, "The world needs your music, more than it needs me."
Because one cannot play music without a heart.
And so for years she watched his progress into a shadow of his former glory, until one day, his daughter opened her mouth. She saw his spirits soar with hope, hope that maybe she could speak to him now, tell him what was wrong, how he could help her. And then she wailed. She wailed and wailed and the God's heart shattered at the sound.
He lay crumbled at her bedside, sobbing, muttering to himself, "Oh, my child, my child." There was pity in his wife's heart, but she understood this was the only way to protect those that prayed to her. She had her duties, after all. She walked past the sobbing God and placed a loving hand on the girl's head. She shushed and caressed her, the way a mother would, and the girl began to quiet down until she was completely silent. The Goddess turned away from them, knowing soon the God would experience joy once more.
The girl became aware of a heart-breaking sound, and at first she thought it was music. Oh, her father was playing for her, expressing his pain. She blinked her eyes open and understood the sound was not his music. She reached across the bed with a shaking hand and touched her father's trembling shoulder. He jumped up then and she gasped in horror. Her eyes frantically searched his face, noting all the differences in her father's face. How long had she been asleep? The dreams seemed to be slipping away from her already. Her father gazed at her in shock and then swept her up into a great embrace. Tears slid down his face but for the first time in years, they were not tears of pain. They laughed together, as father and daughter reunited. He spun her around and dropped kisses on her head.
"Father!" she laughed, "play for me, please. It's been so long since I've truly heard your music."
He dropped one last kiss to her head and picked up his harp. His laughter died down immediately as he stared at his harp in confusion. It felt wrong, somehow. His harp for so long had felt like an extension of him, and now it seemed unfamiliar, foreign. He tried to play and the music would not come. A stone seemed to rise up and clog his throat. He could no longer play, he knew. He had lost what had given him his power. He dropped his harp and stared at his daughter. How had he gained one thing he loved, only to lose another?
"I'm so sorry, my daughter, I'm so sorry." He placed a hand over his chest and could feel the fragments of his heart. She looked at him in bewildered concern.
"Father, why can't you play? What happened?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on his arm. He drew away from her, "One cannot play music without a heart. Heart is the soul and body of a song, and without it, all you can do is play chords," he said in disgust.
She understood then, that her sleep had given him grief beyond his capacity to handle. She understood that because of her, her father could no longer bring happiness to people with his lovely music. She had robbed the world of his presence.
He smiled sadly at her, "Don't worry, my dear. The only thing that matters is that you're all right."
She didn't think that was really all that mattered. She wasn't as great as his music, after all. She stepped away from and walked towards her dresser. Her father stared after her in confusion. She looked through her dresser before pulling out a glinting dagger.
"What are you doing with that?" her father asked, apprehension creeping along his spine. She stared down at her dagger; it had been a gift from her father, for self-defense. She kept it by her bedside, just in case.
"I think the world needs you, father," she said. And horror bloomed in the God of Music. She dug the knife into her chest and bit down a scream. He leaped towards her, but it was already too late. Blood spilled down her front as she carved out her heart and held it out to him.
And yet, she smiled through the pain, "The world needs your music, more than it needs me."
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