Silence

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Nothing is sacred anymore. The birds making noise in the trees are gone. The wind rustling through the trees is gone. The cars on the street have been still for some time now. It feels like centuries. No more life. No more anything.

I hear nothing. Only the endless array of static droning through my skull. Seeping through every crevice, corrupting every thought and memory I once had.

Nothing is left. The voices of loved ones have become warped and unrecognizable. Their faces a blur. Their touch a distant memory. There is but one left. One thing left on this dead planet that could scream at the top of its lungs if it wanted to.

The sea.

The only life left.

I wish I could rip out the fuzziness. Take all of the noise in my head out. The noise that I don't need. The noise that I don't want. But yet, despite the odds, it remains.

We close our doors at night to keep the monsters away. We keep our limbs in the bed and our eyes shut. But all of my monsters are inside me.

Their voices used to scream at me, begging me to listen to them. I screamed back, wanting their ruckus to cease. But, when it finally did, I felt incomplete.

I now realise that they were the only friends I had.

The sea is all that remains. No life. No emotion. Only pain and silence.

My feet barely tickle the sand, treading lightly as though I were walking on feathers. My body yearns for comfort. For the loving arms of a mother I never had.

It calls out to me. Whispering at first. Breaking the silence. The whispering turns to chanting and then to shouting. I'm overwhelmed by the noise, the first thing I've heard in what feels like decades.

It draws me in. I'm warmer now. The fuzziness slowly drains away. It wraps me in an embrace, more loving than any mothers.

As I sink deeper and deeper, my mind numbs. I am almost with the ones I love. So close.

When I reach the bottom, I am no longer able to breathe freely, but I am unfazed. I do not care.

The only thing I needed was for the silence to break.

And it did.

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