Publicat in United States of America - Socializare și divertisment - 24 Dec 2016 20:58 - 1
A Little Night Music
(As in, not nearly finished at all)
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This is what I do for fun. Pity me.
Ever since I was little, I loved playing music. The first instrument I learned was the piano, afterward the guitar and quickly onwards. Now at the age of 22, I can play six instruments; it came as no surprise to anyone when I bought another acoustic guitar at a garage sale. It was in perfect condition, and for only $60, a steal. I quickly drove home, plopping down on my bed to try it out. Oddly enough, the guitar was terribly out of tune. I chalked it up to an overly bumpy car ride, and before too long I had it sounding better than any guitar I had ever played before. I was completely blown away by the sheer elegance of the music.
Later that evening, after playing some excellent Black Ops matches, I retired to my room for the night. Before long, I slipped into a comfortable sleep.
I woke up and glanced at my alarm clock - 3:42 AM. That’s when I realized I had to pee. Badly. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I groggily made my way down the hallway and to the bathroom. I had just finished washing my hands when I heard a sudden thud come from the living room. I have a severe fear of robbers and thieves, so it was a good thing I had just used the washroom. Anxiously I tip-toed down the dark hallway and peered into the small room, armed with my toothbrush. I stood there for at least 10 minutes, deadly silent, but I didn’t hear or see anything at all. I took a deep breath, crawled back into my bed and immediately pulled the covers over my head. Sure, it was hot, sweaty, and rather unpleasant in general, but I was willing to exchange my personal comfort (and dignity) for the illusion of safety.
I woke up to the sun shining through my window. It was impossible to fall back asleep because the sun was right on my face, but if I got up and closed the blinds, I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep because then I would already be up. I struggled out of bed and headed for the shower. 5 minutes later, I was standing in the warm water, thinking to myself “At the end of my life, one of my legs will have walked further than the other - and I will never know which one.” Immediately afterwards, I knew it was time to get out. As I was getting dressed, I noticed my guitar leaning against my closet wall. This would have been completely fine, had I not left it in the guitar stand in my living room. I had no idea how it had even gotten inside my closet in the first place. Somewhat unsettled, I headed for the kitchen to make myself a bowl of Cheerios, along with a nice gl of orange juice. After breakfast, I headed back to my closet and grabbed my guitar. Once again, it was ridiculously out of tune. I frowned, completely flabbergasted as to how it could be so untuned, let alone how it made the journey from the living room to my closet. My worries soon dissipated after I had finished tuning the guitar; the stunning beauty of the music I could play was captivating. I played until my fingers ached, and then some. Finally, I placed the fascinating instrument in the guitar stand and grabbed my car keys. It was noon, and I had made plans to go out with my buddies for lunch.
Even though we were only going to meet for lunch, we ended up going out to the mall, then the bar. It was 2 in the morning and I was unbelievably tired. I threw on my pajamas and made my way towards the bathroom. I was halfway through brushing my teeth when I noticed that my new guitar was leaning on the wall behind me. Confused and drunk, I just left it there. It didn’t take long before I was fast asleep.
The guitar was still there, leaning against the bathroom wall when I got up to shower. I was quite perplexed: guitars just don’t get up and move in the middle of the night. As I picked it up and gave it a quick strum, it was once again, incredibly out of tune. I decided to do a quick experiment. I tuned the guitar, then set it carefully down in the living room before hopping in the shower. When I got out, I didn’t even bother getting dressed: I immediately picked up my guitar and plucked the strings. It sounded fine.
This went on for weeks; my guitar would always be totally out of tune, and I would always have to tune it again. Eventually I gave up on the instrument. It was way too frustrating to tune it over and over again. I stopped using it, and stuck with playing my other guitars instead.
One morning, I walked into my kitchen to find every instrument I own shattered, in pieces all over the place. Every instrument … except for the guitar I bought at the garage sale.
Thankfully it didn’t take long for the police to get to my house, and they did a complete search of the entire place. Strangely, there was no sign of forced entry. In fact, the policemen couldn’t find a single piece of evidence to link anyone to the crime. They were just as stumped as I was.
Now, I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits or any of that mumbo-jumbo, but this was getting creepy. Every disturbing happening seemed to trace back to the only guitar I had left. I decided to set up a camera in the hallway leading towards my bedroom, angled towards the living room where the guitar sat. Unfortunately, it wasn’t equipped with night vision technology, but I figured it would still be able to catch something.
The next morning I grabbed the camera and uploaded it straight into my laptop. It was seven hours of footage, so I played it at 6x the normal speed, compiling the seven hours into an hour and ten minutes. I was around 30 minutes into the footage when a sudden flash of light shot by on the camera. I immediately slowed the video back to normal speed and rewound to just before I saw the flash. I watched as a dark object slowly made it’s way towards my bedroom, a gleam of light bouncing off the silhouette as it ped a window. I jumped up and completed a thorough search of my room, but didn’t find the guitar. I stepped out into the hall and saw it still sitting in it’s stand in the living room.
Sustine
PalmerComentarii (1)
it will be better with a picture there