Marissa is an aspiring creative who deeply loves art of all kinds. She is a hopeless movie geek and book nerd who spends her free time buried in novels and practicing her violin. She hopes to use her writing to inspire her fellow humans.
In my dream, there is music. At first, I panic. The music is sweet but heavy. It clogs my ears and fills my nose and mouth as if to drown me. I try to scream but there is no sound and there is no air. But then I hear words. I cannot understand them, for they are too old and too ancient for me to comprehend. Instead, they soothe me like the whisperings of a lover. There is sorrow in the music. Sorrow as deep as the black chasms that crack the seafloor. There is longing too, the restless ache of a sailor oceans from his home. In a way, I am reminded of Mariela. I can almost hear her voice in the music’s ebb and flow and see her lips move with the mysterious lyrics. Her lips move again and out of the melody I recognize a word. An irresistible command that shocks me like ice and scorches me like fire: