Silent Color ( Draft) by nx
“One, two, three...begin!”
And with that the orchestra commenced.
But all she heard was color.
All she ever remembered was color. Every song, every melody, every tune. Even though she took music as her major, it was the intense pigment she looked forward to in those musical notes.
It had always been this way; with bursts of paint in her mind and the music from her mp3 player. Today started like any other, with her fast asleep during first period algebra, as one usually is. She had her ear plugs in so she didn’t have to hear all the noise: of students chattering, things moving and screeching teachers. The color in her head doesn’t necessarily need music, all it needed was sound. Two periods more and then it was musical theory. Something she could actually give all her attention to, but the clock seemed to be moving as much as not that day.
So she set about to calculating on the table, which didn’t end as badly as she thought it would. She was half way through when the bell rang, flashing a dangerous shade of orange, thankfully the ear plugs dulled the raging color. Sometimes it was so bright it hurt her eyes.
English went by like breeze, and the only thing she ever did in English was looking out the window, making out the chirps coming from the trees. Bird music was always tinted pink for some reason.
And then the greatly awaited had finally arrived; Musical theory.
She was over the moon. They were finally starting musical expression. And what was a song without emotion?
So for the first time today she unplugged her ears and chose to listen.
“... Expression on instruments can be closely related to the role of the breath in singing, and the voice's natural ability to express feelings, sentiment and deep emotions...”Her music professor had always had an unusual voice. It was always sounded so...gray. Not sad, just sorrowful. Like the cloudy gray-blue the sky is before it rains.
“Ximena?” Now it was gray-black.
Simon looked up at her professor, guess some people never get it when you ask them to call you by a more pronounceable name.
“Yes?” She replied. As much as Miss.Wolfe annoyed her, it was hard to get mad at something...someone who was so.....tiny? She couldn’t find the right word.
Simon assumed it was about the test they had on form and structure. Well, that’s most likely anyway. Waving that off, she looked back down at her open text book and wrote down a string of notes then added the articulation. Even the smallest difference could do so much. She could almost hear the melody as she scrawled it down, it was the kind that reminded her of the first time she heard color, of the music in black and metallic gold.
There was one thing about her melody she liked the best - it was something you’d never really hear. The way the notes were strung made it awkward for a human to sing out or for an instrument to play without the color fading. Well she knew it was weird, but it was true. She had tried many times, with different instruments. Then she realized that it couldn’t be replicated by a single person and/or instrument. It required multiply layers of harmony and sync, be it voice or sound. Even she couldn't hum it out without it losing its saturation into pale yellows and grays. It was all just basic notes. Not even chords. Well, maybe a few.
Simon let her thoughts wonder as she walked across campus. She didn't even have to listen for rainbows to form in her head. Hearing alone did that. Thankfully it was dulled out that day. And the ear plugs of course. Earplugs save lives.
Earlier Miss. Wolfe had had quite a shock. She was telling Simon about how she had done some interesting work on the test. She was astonished by the mere wit Simon had used on her paper. Ms. Wolfe had called on her to ask about the little stanza she had written at the back of the paper. It was a bunch of incompatible chords, with the most ridiculous set of articulations and textures. And yet Ms.Wolfe had no doubt she had seen them before.
On inquiry, she found out that Simon had taken the chords from Fur Elise and altered the pitch to create and different tune all together while changing barely anything. From Fur Elise! It was one of the first pieces the students are given to analyses and yet she had barely a hunch.
Simon felt a smirk form on her lips, recalling how she walked out of class leaving behind a highly confused teacher. Most of her classmates racked their brains trying to come up with decent chords when the answer was always in their heads.
Simon walked over to the list stuck on the door of practice room no.22, and crossed off her name, Ximena Cohen.
She was the only one who ever used this practice room. It was dubbed “Death room” by the others. Some stupid ghost rumor. As long as it kept the others out, she didn’t really mind.
But still, why that room ?
Because she was the only one who made the colors there.
She held up the violin under her chin and began. The chords forming after the notes she strung on her desk. Starting out darker than midnight and fading out to dusk. Then a change, like when the water was kissed by the sun, sending waves of purple and pink rippling through. And it went on, changing from the early sun that glowed vermillion to the blazing white of noon. Gradually fading back to the empty night and glistening dawn. Going on and on and on. Maybe she should consider becoming a painter.
The afternoon in reality had faded out to night when Simon finally decided to stop practice. The heads of her fingertips looked like they were tortured by miniature whips. And her neck had a deep crease where the violin had sat. If only everyday was as peaceful as that one, but then again where would the fun be if that were so?
With a sigh, Simon locked the door and dropped the key on the security desk before leaving campus. This was like a sad ending. Something Simon felt every day, like an itch you knew you shouldn’t itch unless you wanted it to scar. Even though she wasn’t the most social person in the world, this place was one she liked. Like home, which was where she was headed as she gazed at the starless stretch of sky.
Simon’s uni provided dormitories to the students, but occasionally she liked going back home. Besides it wasn’t that far off any way.
Simon walked down the street silently, her hands sitting idle on her head. Cars passed by her lazily, as if even they wanted the serene night to drag on. By the time she reached her apartment her hands were aching from being in the same place for so long.
She hadn’t even started typing her apartment pin when the door flung open and a small, dark-haired creature launched itself onto her, clutching to her neck with all its might asking her why she took so long.
Simon chuckled lightly, the fact that her baby sister had managed to stay up this late was an accomplishment of its own. Little Lex had the most exceedingly consistent sleep timings. Simon nuzzled her nose into the three-year-olds soft hair, “Why did you wait so long for me? Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep early?”
The little girl pouted “I want to sleep with Simon.”
“I know, but I stay out really late so next time you sleep early, k?”I held her out in my arms and got up, bring her back to me almost immediately.
“.....okay” She agreed, her pout not quite gone.
Simon poked her fingers at her sister’s sides, making her burst into little giggles. Simon set her down and followed her into the house.
“I’m home.” Simon said setting her shoes aside. “Mama?”
A voice replied from somewhere in the kitchen. “Yeah, sweetie?”
Her mom came out to the hallway, her petite hands dusting the flour off her apron. Simon mom was something. Even at forty-one, her beauty was like a lingering radiance around her, from the way her hands fluttered to her graceful steps. She stood at her tip toes and kissed Simon’s cheeks. “How was school?”
School, collage, university...whatever. It was all school to mom. “Good enough.” Simon muttered. “How’s dinner coming along?”
Simon’s mother clapped her hands together, utterly delighted. “ So...”she said walking to the kitchen. “ We have pumpkin soup, poppy-seed bread and star cookies.”
Simon could help but beam. Her mom had a new menu every day. “Has Lex eaten yet?”
Her mom sighed “ That one’s as stubborn as a monkey. Wouldn’t eat without you. Not even the cookies!” Her mom exclaimed, still a bit awestruck by the fact.
“ Well, we can’t let the monkey starve, now can we?”
Giggles exploded from the hallway as Lex rocketed onto Simon and let out a little cry. “Let’s eat!!”
Her mom let out a soft laugh and carried Lex over to the table. Simon couldn’t have called anything more perfect. Or so she thought.
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