Moonlight Sonata

•9 - Silence •

  Silence: complete absence of sound. 

•She•

Save me.

I needed Him to save me. Because it was all slowly churning out of my control. The garden, every day, clearer. The birds, every day, louder. The stranger, every day, nearer.

And I was scared.

The place pulled me in like a slithering snake, the vines of the trees wrapping themselves around my chest, my arms, my legs. Every day, the sun shined warmer in that fateful land, the grass felt softer under my feet. Every day, the birds grew louder, and the scent from the flowers grew stronger. And every day, my dear stranger edged further.

Further, further, and further still, until they penetrated not only my mind, but every part of my skin there was, until I was dripping with traces that screamed their name, until there was nothing to smell on me, but that elating smell that arose from their arms.

I was giving Him a tough time, that much I knew. With me jumping awake every moment, the peaceful hours were few. And yet He bore it all with a patient disposition, and even if He had His moments of agony, that was carefully hidden information.

He was right about one thing, though - His strange idea of Hell.  Because in my personal opinion, people with eyes were cursed. Why else would they paint such a frightening picture, of something that was not frightening at all? Oh! If only they'd close their eyes for once, as I had mine done for me, they'd see how wrong they were, how unconvincing their pictures stood. They'd learn to hear the vibrations of their heart, follow them like the true compass that they were. And at the end of that road, they'd see too what I had found - Heaven, Earth and Hell, eternally bound.

Funny thing was, that was what was scary. Not the picture of devilish laughter and ever-rising flames, for there was a raging fire inside my very brain. But the sheer intensity of my belief, the blinding clarity of the images in my mind. Imagines satisfying every fancy and whim, but images, taking me away from Him.

For have you any idea, how frightening something not frightening can be?

It were these words floating through my head, as He took my hand gently and led me to bed. "Do you want me to play to you?" He asked as He sat me down. It wasn't a night like any other - it was cold, unnerving, and without a sound.

The crows hadn't sung today, the souls lay quieter still. As if they were all anticipating something, of which we were yet unaware. A strange cloud of foreboding, hung about in the air.

"Not tonight," I told Him. "Tonight, let silence prevail."

"I'm scared of silence," He said. "That's why I play."

"What will you do then," I asked, "when these jolly times are gone, and you have nothing but silence, to fall back on?"

An obstinate streak shone through His voice. "Gah!" He cried. "That day will never come."

And so night after night passed, in a similar atmosphere. With Him, I was at ease, because He froze Blood like ice. While my stranger made me feel alive, this numbness too, was nice. How welcoming they were, these unfeeling limbs, for they had in them a sense of uniformity, a pleasant break from the rush of the hour.

He had insecurities I knew not. And to Him, my fears were equally unknown. And so we froze each other's molten spots, until we were left with no more, and lay absolutely calm and still, like ever-satisfied little clones.

It was morning the day after, so unlike that foreboding night. There was noise all around, flurrying steps all across the grounds. And on such an innocent morning, He sat on His usual stool and played. Notes flew through the air, like butterflies in my blessed ear.

He played on and on and on and on. And then, with sudden hesitation, He came to an abrupt stop.

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