Silence
The first time I picked up a camera, I was 7 and it was a cartoon themed camera that was very bulky and had rubber lining. I hated the feel of the enormous buttons and annoying bright colors. It didn't look anything like Depression's camera, which was black and slender, small and very ominous looking. Depression stood beside me and I heard the camera shutter flicker as he took a picture of the dark clouds above us. I gave him a look of confusion, eyebrows pressed together with a thin line for a mouth. He shrugged. I never understood his pictures, always so dark and gloomy. He liked to capture these moments on film, and I wasn't allowed to judge.
I grew up a little older and Hope got me a nicer, more maturelooking camera. It was silver and big, almost like a large filming camera. Surprisingly light and easier to use, I was quick to give back the kiddie camera. Hope taught me how to use it and it was similar to his in shape. Sitting next to Hope on the balcony of the hospital, I watched as he snapped a quick photo of a scene. I found very heartwrenching. A mother pushed her daughter in a wheelchair smiling and laughing even though the girl's head completely bald. I poked Hope and asked, "Why do they look so happy?" He smiled slowly and answered softly, "She's going home. For now." His back was to me and the sun was just over the horizon as I looked back down at the survivor and her mother. I nodded quickly and swung my legs over the side of the building.
Sorrow stood on the sidewalk with a single rose in his left hand and his other on his camera attached to the strap around his neck. I looked around the graveyard and peered in between the trees to see a man standing in front of a tombstone. His shoulders were sulked low and he looked down at the carved stone. I heard Sorrow step closer and lift the camera to his eye, where he snapped a quick photo of the grieving man. I cocked my head and watched as the man lifted the bouquet of flowers to his face, then lay them on the grave. He walked quickly away and didn't look back.
I watched as Regret stood in the doorway and loomed over the small man as he had his head down in his arms. Watching carefully, I saw the man holding a whiskey bottle in one hand and a framed picture in the other. A woman with this man, it looked like a wedding. I peered closer and saw a newspaper clipping taped to the wall that read in bold highlighted words, "Pedestrian hit by unknown drunk driver last week..." Regret approached the man and squatted down slowly to angle his camera upwards at the drunken widow. I turned away as the moment was captured.
I stumbled upon a teenage boy in his room. I watched from the window and lifted my camera, seeing how the situation seemed obvious. The boy sat on his bed with headphones in. He lifted his sleeve slowly and you could see the old scars reveal themselves in the dim light. He grabbed the sharp metal blade and held it in his palm, tilting it so it reflected some light. I shook my head slowly as he gritted his teeth and placed the blade along his wrist, and I clicked the button on my camera and looked away. They call me Silence.
