The beat was always in her head. She could hear it while she drifted off to sleep. It flowed through her while she worked during the day, syncing up to her footsteps and the rhythm of her heart. Her words were shaped by it, and her thoughts danced around to it.
The sound wanted desperately to get out, and it made her feel like a caged animal. She felt pent up, wound up, and torn up inside. If she didn’t set it free, it would destroy her; it would consume her like a bird in flame. The sounds and the words only her soul seemed able to express demanded to be released from within and set loose upon the world.
She couldn’t hold a conversation, and people told her she had a problem. She was constantly changing the subject, her thoughts and words being swept away and guided along hither and yon by the beat inside. Few seemed to care, and fewer still seemed to understand. It was a curse, a sickness, a weakness to those who saw her, judged her, cast her aside. It was deemed a handicap, though it would prove to be her greatest strength.
It was the look in her eye, it was the way she walked, it was the syncopation of her words; it ruled her, and was involved in every aspect of who she was, woven through every fiber of her being. She heard the sounds in utter silence, and could not drown them out in the greatest of noise. For the beat, the sound, was living deep within her, and commanded her attention.
She kept mostly to herself, confused and embarrassed by this gift. She wore it like a cross, and hid it like shame, unaware of the power it truly gave her. Never having an explanation or a reason for why it coursed through her more thoroughly than the blood in her veins; it was closer than the air in her lungs, so real and tangible in her thoughts, she almost saw it when she closed her eyes. Such a powerful sound that it shook her awake in the middle of the night, and kept her awake for days, pondering ways to let this unrelenting force free from its cage within her chest.
She filled the pages of empty books with its words, and transcribed the sounds that transcended words in the best way she could. She began to seek out others who were also possessed by the Sound, so that she could further understand it, and how to control it. But they said it could not be understood, tamed, or controlled. It is a wild, unbridled force, unyielding and beyond comprehension.
Like a wildfire, it burned through its hosts, causing them to say and do things most would or could not. It made them bold, and it made them strange. When the Sound made itself known, there was no way to anticipate what would happen, or what would be created.
And that was the only thing anyone knew about the Sound: that it was a force of creation. It took silence and wove it into a symphony. The Sound flashed like lightning from the fingertips and thunder from the tongue, forcing its way out through even the very pores of its host, for it refused to go unheard. The magic inside could not, by its very nature, remain unplayed, the song unsung. The Sound will not be unnoticed, and it will not move on until it has shaken the host, and the audience, to the core.