The Song In Itself
And How It Destroyed Me
A/N: As I explained in the story summary. I love this song. It is very strange. Oddly soothing. But don't listen to it unless you are prepared for something so strange.
"Szomorú Vasárnap száz fehér virággal, Vártalak, kedvesem, templomi imával, Álmokat kergető vasárnap délelőtt, Bánatom hintaja nélküled visszajött.
Azóta szomorú mindig a vasárnap, Könny csak az italom, kenyerem a bánat... Szomorú vasárnap.
Utolsó vasárnap, kedvesem, gyere el; Pap is lesz, koporsó, ravatal, gyászlepel, Akkor is virág vár, virág és - koporsó, Virágos fák alatt utam az utolsó.
Nyitva lesz szemem, hogy még egyszer lássalak, Ne félj a szememtől, holtan is áldalak... Utolsó vasárnap."
"On a sad Sunday with a hundred white flowers, I was waiting for you, my dear, with a church prayer, That dream-chasing Sunday morning, The chariot of my sadness returned without you.
Ever since then, Sundays are always sad, tears are my drink, and sorrow is my bread... Sad Sunday.
Last Sunday, my dear, please come along, There will even be priest, coffin, catafalque, hearse-cloth. Even then flowers will be awaiting you, flowers and coffin. Under blossoming (flowering in Hungarian) trees my journey shall be the last.
My eyes will be open, so that I can see you one more time, Do not be afraid of my eyes as I am blessing you even in my death... Last Sunday."
-Full rights goes to
Rezső Seress
And
László Jávor
Twilight never meant for it to happen, she never wanted to listen to the song, but she read about it and she couldn't control the interest she bore on it, the idea terrified her, that a song would bare so much responsibility for several deaths, though she told herself that it isn't the majority factor, but still she couldn't stop thinking about it. She needed to hear it.
She grabbed out her laptop and opened a new tab, YouTube, she typed up the title and clicked the search button, a cold sort of fear against her skin. Picking one of the videos, she plugged in her earphones and listened to the staticky but beautiful song, it was sung by a man who seemed heartbroken. A piano so soft it was barely audible, and she felt tears escape her eyes, a sad song filled to the brim with misery and sin.
"Oh my..."
It was worse than she thought, a painful expression of post war depression, she thought in the sound of the song in itself. It played through her mind and it rang in her eyes, the video was over but the song she still could hear.
"It is like a curse, an evil one too."
Oh how it played with her mind, the Devil, she thought, is upon me. The mirror it played tricks as she saw the dead, it came from the room she was in, the circled around her they laughed in her face, she was to be in the next in the line of this terrible curse.
"NO! No."
Again it looped and played itself again, pure agony twisted and played at her mind. The devil is in me, her thoughts cried.
The next day, she was in the same place, the doctor came and visited her.
"She's fine, just tired." He said to her parents, they nodded and let him be on his way.
But even if she was tired or not, the song still played in her ears, she got up and danced to it, as soon her parents left.
"Oh Sunday, oh Sunday. I thought you were of peace. But now that I see it you bring nothing good. Just evil and darkness."
She sang her line over and over again to the sound of the music, her parents looked at her and worried but thought it was just a strange little song, nothing to worry about over all.
I mean surely the doctor would've told us if there was something wrong with her in that sort of way, they said to themselves.
But she persisted in singing the song, persisted in not leaving her room, she grew insane, and her parents feared for their daughter's life.
Twilight held the knife up to her flesh, she cut her wrist, she broke her fingers one by one, she laughed maniacally, she licked led the blood that left the wound, she turned her from side to side trying to crack neck in two, she failed but still she laughed. She wasn't happy but sanity had left her body, it meant nothing to her the pain she was in, she did not notice it indeed.
But she felt the urge to throw herself off the building, to leap, to jump, to fall. To kill oneself is a blessing, she thought as she climbed a top the roof. She called out:
"My life I destroy is ones fate, Gloomy Sunday takes it wake, the curse born once again."
And jump she did, smashing to the ground, her body a mangled, bloody mess, bones you could see from out her body, a dark tale for one so pretty, so fortunate. But that is what knowledge does to you, it takes and twists your mind. Makes you feel so utterly inclined to do things you would never wish to do.
Like the poor girl, Twilight Sparkle, who now floats above the Earth mourning for those too, have fallen into Gloomy Sunday's trap. Now she is a spirit warning all, and living on without a soul to trace. She went insane just like the rest in Hungary and America, her parents cried just like the rest but never did they realize why until they found the song up her laptop, which sat upon her desk. They did not listen but already knew exactly why she did so. The doctor they say, knew the same and knew her fate and could not help her in anyway. But who dear knows what happened? For we all surely don't.
Twilight told all who saw her, beware the curse of Gloomy Sunday, here it shall be born again.
Author's Note
So this must be a strange story to those who do no know the song. But I hope you enjoyed.
