The Alicorn of Music

I played the piano for a few years in high school, but I never got very good at it. All though I did get to the point where I could play a few simple songs, they never sounded like I wanted them to sound like.

In my mind, I had composed hundreds of little tunes to keep it occupied. Even though these songs would never be played, I still found enjoyment in collecting my thoughts to a tempo and a harmony... This is where my story truly begins.

I slowly approached the piano, looking around to see if anyone was watching me, pulled out the bench, and brought up a hoof to press one of the keys. I failed at it miserably and ended up hitting three or four of them. Normally, I would have left the piano alone and never return to it again, but the thought of "If it can't be played, then why is it here?", kept crossing my mind. That and the fact that my mind doesn't process boredom very easily.

After fiddling with the clunky keys of the very out of tune, upright piano, I became frustrated and plopped my head down on them.

"Ouch", I said forgetting about the horn thing.

I lifted my head back up and stared at the keys for a bit longer. There was still a lack of sentience in the room, so I continued poking the keys at random. After about ten minutes of this I was finally bored of the awful noises coming from the thing, so I closed my eyes and rested my head on the music holder.

My mind began drifting on it's own as I pondered what it might have been like if I continued pursuing the goal of getting well at playing music. This thought kept repeating and amplifying itself over an over again in the strangest way. Eventually, the thought became so overpowering that it almost felt like a physical feeling. I opened my eyes and looked at the piano once more, only this time I was frustrated at it.

"Why can't you think about something else, brain?", I said out loud.

The thought continued getting stronger and stronger until eventually a migraine began to form.

"Perfect", I thought.

The headache grew while the thought persisted. About five minutes of this and I was  almost panicking. I wanted to run back to the ER, but my own thoughts were limiting me from doing so. It was as if I needed to do something with this piano.

Hoping to find relief, I began uncontrollably pounding the keys with my hoofs. The sound echoed throughout the room, which only made the pains grow more intense. Finally, it became so strong that I felt nauseous.

"Shit, here it comes.", I said.

Right before I was about to blow chunks all over myself, I felt a combination of pressure and euphoria behind my eyes. This feeling began traveling upwards when I noticed a bright blue glow above me. I looked up to try and see what it was only for it to leave my sight exactly when I turned my head.

I soon realized that my horn was the culprit... It felt like it was going to explode!

"Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT! My horn's damaged!", I almost screamed.

I saw a beam of blue light shoot from it and then cover the piano in an aura of the same color. After a few seconds, the pain subsided. I was, however, a little too freaked out to notice. What really got me was how I began to feel the piano without actually touching it.

I felt like I was on acid or something, which at the time would have made some sense considering all of the preceding occurrences. This feeling wasn't a good or a bad feeling. It was just a feeling of pure connection with the instrument in front of me; like it had been a conjoined twin for my entire life.

Another thought came to me, "Play it."

Without thinking, I responded. Not with my appendages, but with the feeling of control that was suddenly oscillating around my senses.

...

I will never forget the A minor arpeggio that was coming from the piano. It was quite possibly the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, even though the piano was terribly out of tune and in a cafeteria with even more terrible acoustics. I have tried and tried to replay this piece the exact same way as I did, but never will it be the same without the clunky keys of the cafeteria. I still play the tune from time to time with complete accuracy, however, the best a piece of music will ever sound is when it is listened to it for the first time. Sentience is where the trophies of the past are.

My emotions had somehow become like a transmission, and the piano was the device of outlet. I was hearing the music through my ears, when I began pondering the thought of changing the chord. As soon as the thought of which chord I wanted to hear became fully understood, the piano began playing it.

About a minute or two passed and I decided to change the sound up from basic chord progressions. The piano played highs and lows, with twisting varieties of musical brilliance. I was allowing all of my thoughts from the past that had built up over the years out, and it was becoming superbly intense.

"I think I'll call this "The Cafeteria.", I thought humorously.

More and more light spilled from my head as the piano was producing increasingly complicated and adverse patterns, but when I heard someone approaching from behind me...