Scissors

Scissors

I can hear it.
The click-click of two blades sliding against each other in such a sickening, annoying sound. I ground my teeth, reeling. I had to stop it.
I stood slowly from the chair I was sitting at and disregarded the book I was barely reading, not getting past the same sentence since the sound had started. I sighed, following the sound, but it didn't get louder or softer. It just kept going, at the same, steady tempo. The urge tocover my ears started to become unbearable. I want to read, but couldn't with that sound.
Click-click, click-click, click-click.
That horrible sound.
I sped walked now around my house, searching drawers, cabinets, anything. No, someone must be doing it. Yes, someone must. But I was alone. I've been alone for thirteen years. I had no friends. No relationships.
Click-click, droned the sound. I recognized it, of course! It was scissors, I knew. Of course, I knew, I am not stupid. My brain works perfectly, see? I can add and subtract and deduce sounds: this was scissors. God knew it was scissors.
But, how? How could the click-click of scissors opening and closing happen when there was no one else here?
"Is anyone here?"I even called, but didn't expect an answer. I was correct, no answer.
I slammed my fist down, straining to hear its origin. Why now? Why here? My mind's imaginary gears hummed in protest. No, this was too, too much. I- I wasn't crazy. I'm not crazy.. But the scissors...
My stomach turned, I kept walking.
The same sound in my head for this long bugged me too much. I- I had to stop it, or at the very least replace it somehow. I hummed loudly, covering my ears as if I was child and ignoring another's drone of talking. But I still could heard it, very clearly. It hadn't sped up, or even get louder, it was the same, same! beat.
"No, no,"I whimpered to my self. I had to get out of there. I ran to the front door, but found it locked. How? I wanted to scream. It couldn't be locked from the inside.
Click-click, click-click.
I blinked fervently- this couldn't be happening. Is this a dream? A nightmare?
I took a step back and then hit against the door, pounding it. I knew it was no good. I hastily searched all possible exits but they were locked, keeping me in.
"Stop it,"I said aloud.
Click-click, click-click, click-click.
"PLEASE!" I yelled, and covered my ears tightly, pushing so hard against the sides of my head as if I could squish out the sound.
I shut my eyes tightly, so tight I could see spots when they opened. Scissors, I had to find them.
I searched my whole house.
No.
Scissors.
I whimpered again. I had to stop this madness, somehow. I clamped my hand over my mouth and walked to my kitchen slowly.
I opened the drawer of knives. Clamping my hand tighter around my mouth, I quickly brought the knife down onto my ear, slicing it off. I concentrated on the pain, distracting me from the infernal clicking. It was somewhat muted, and I almost gave a cry of relief. Pain didn't matter now. I just had to make it stop. I panted and brought my shaky hand to my other ear and brought the knife down. I only realized my hand was still clamped over my mouth when I screamed, but was cut off. I was deaf and the sound had stopped. I exhaled slowly, then grinned. Yes, yes!
I slid down, down to the floor, too happy, too relieved, to shudder at the horror of my two severed ears on the floor.
After a while, joy lifted me up to lead me to my room, where I picked up my book and went to the same sentence I left off. I smiled.
As soon as I read that sentence again and started to read the next- a sound- a low, soft sound began, then grew louder, to medium volume and in a lazy, steady tempo. Slish-slash. Click-click.
I opened my mouth and screamed at this, but no sound came out- yet, yet I heard it.
The horrifyingly sick sound of the scissors.
Click-click, click-click, click-click.