Lena tuned her violin.
Each individual string had to be very carefully wound up and tuned. If even just one string was wound a little too tightly, the song would be ruined. So Lena very carefully twisted each of the four knobs on the neck of her violin. She slowly, carefully strummed the violin to make sure that it was tuned properly. Finally, after twisting the final knob by just a few centimetres, the first few notes sounded correct.
Lena then took a very sharp, deep breath. She was nervous. She hoped this song would go well. She had been practicing it continuously over the past few months, with little improvement. She had listened to famous violinists play it on the radio, and it had sounded absolutely beautiful. Lena would be lucky if she could get each beat of the song just right.
The thing was, 26-year-old Lena was somewhat poor. And by that, I mean she was flat-out broke. The hellhole rat's-ass of an apartment she lived in would just not do for her. She needed somewhere where people wouldn't bang on her wall and yell at her to "shut the hell up". Lena needed a place where she could be free, where the atmosphere of each room amplified the beauty of each individual note of a song. Right now, the only place she could perform was an abandoned warehouse, where she was all alone.
She knew that the only way she could get what she knew she deserved was if she played beautifully. That way, people would pay money just to hear a thirty-second demo of her playing. And the only way she could accomplish that was with hard work and practice.
Seated on her fold-up chair, she quietly put the bow up to the strings of her instrument. She didn't do anything for a moment. She just sat there, eyes closed, hoping that she would get this right. She knew that she couldn't afford to botch it up again. Finally, after a moment of waiting, she began to carefully move the bow.
The first few notes were absolute perfection.
Lena was surprised. But she didn't open her eyes. She just kept playing.
The beginning of the song was going by smoothly. Very smoothly. The way she played was almost hypnotic, in that it mesmerized the listener and prevented them from going anywhere or paying attention to anything else. It was beauty in instrumental form.
Lena was still anxious, though. But the more she played, and the more beautiful her song became, the less she worried about what would happen next and the more she just allowed her conscience to guide her hand, which guided the bow across the strings of her violin, and created some of the most incredible music heard by any being in all of existence.
For some reason, the motivating flow that was flowing within her now got her to stand up. She was now dancing elegantly to the rhythm of her own playing. It was strange. She'd never danced once in her life, especially not with a violin in her arms playing the most amazing tune ever heard by mankind. Yet the way she danced was dazzlingly graceful. It was almost as hypnotic as her violin-playing.
And that's when she did the craziest thing in the world.
She improvised the song.
And she did it to perfection.
The song had already been the most beautiful sound to ever flow right past one's eardrums and go directly to their soul. But when she put her own twist to the song...it was unbelievable.
The splendor of her song was now quite literally defying all known logic. It was so good, that it was actually impossible. Yet here was Lena, with her feet spinning against the floor as if it were ice and she had skates on, with a violin in her hands playing the most impossibly marvelous melody that had ever been played by anyone, before or since.
Lena now knew that her future was secure. With violin-playing skills as amazing and complex as hers, there was no way that her fantasies wouldn't be recognized. She was so good, that she could practically hear the applause.
Actually, she could hear the applause.
She finally stopped playing and opened her eyes. Around her were dozens of people, literally hundreds, that were clapping in a wild frenzy, clearly in love with her total fiddling expertise. She was absolutely stunned. She put her hands up to her mouth, which was now in a huge ear-to-ear grin, her eyes welling up with tears. Was this really happening? Was she just dreaming?
She pinched herself. She was still surrounded by fans. This was definitely reality.
Still in shock, she took her bows. And that's when someone walked up to her.
He was an old man, with abnormally beautiful skin and hair, and a wig that looked like it dated back to the 17th century. He took a quick bow of respect, then said, "Your violin playing was completely remarkable!"
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" replied Lena, still trying her hardest not to cry with joy at the surprise of all the loving reactions she had been met with.
Then the man introduced himself. "I am Ludwig Hanswell, composer and talent agent. And I must say, your violin playing is more stunningly incredible than all of the pieces I've made put together." Lena was now beginning to shed tears, as she was still amazed by what she was seeing. And that's when she got the most unexpected (yet pleasant) surprise of all.
"My clients are internationally renowned, and I want to have you among them."
Lena's eyes suddenly went wide. She rubbed them for a moment, then asked "Are--are you serious?!" "More serious than the works of Beethoven." Lena was now jumping up and down in excitement. She was now only able to scream, "Yes! Yes! Yes!!!"
Mr. Hanswell extended his hand. "Then come with me."
Lena took his hand, still giddily jumping, and the two of them walked out of that old, musty warehouse, and into a limousine. The giant crowd had now grown bigger, with just over a thousand people swarming the area, and they all cheered for Lena as she followed Ludwig Hanswell into his car. She took her violin and her chair with her, and nothing else.
And with that, they were gone. The crowds dispersed, though some still followed the limo, desperate to get another listen of Lena's music.
It had been hours. Lena's roommate, Jenna, was now getting worried over her friend's safety. She remembered Lena saying that she was going to old Warehouse #14, which was somewhere near the pier. So Jenna got in her car and drove to there.
When she got there, she opened the door to the warehouse...and gasped with shock and sadness at what she saw.
Lena was dead, with a bottle of pills in her hand, and the skin on her face a haunting shade of blue. The official autopsy ruled the cause of her death as suicide. She had overdosed herself with the antidepressants she'd been taking all month.
Her violin was broken into two pieces, with the bow being snapped in half, too. Her chair was missing a leg, and the back was faulty as well.
Warehouse #14 was an infamous suicide hotspot in that city.
Written by Postuhenin