Into The Deep End

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I hate classical music.

I really just despise it.

The piano keys are too harsh on the decrescendos and too loud on the crescendos. The violins squeak too much, and the cellos groan in pain. And somehow it just always sounds sad.

The song could be about flowers, yet the tone of the piece made me feel as if the flowers were already dead.

I don't know when I started hating classical music. I just did one day.

Maybe it was the day I noticed the earpieces.

They had surgically sewn them into my head somehow, and I couldn't remove them. Believe me, I had tried. I noticed them the day I realized that nothing in this room made a sound. The door wouldn't swoosh when they opened it to bring me food. The lights wouldn't clink when they were shut off at night. The bed wouldn't creak when I lay down on it.

And when I went to scratch my ear one day, I found them and I screamed.

I screamed and screamed and tried to tear them from my ears, yet they wouldn't budge.

I even tried to take a knife from the table and cut them out, but somehow I blacked out before the cold metal could touch my skin.

When I woke up, there were no knives anymore, and I haven't seen one since.

That's also the day the classical music started playing to drown out the quiet, and I realized it was coming from the damn earpieces.

I'll keep praying for the silence to return.

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