Breaking the Silence “2 of 3”

He was running, looking back every now and then, falling down, getting up, and running faster. Every breath he took called the next one so fast, he barely breathed enough.

He opened his eyes to find himself in his bed, sweat drew maps on his face, and his bed was shaking in harmony with his trembling body. And then he calmed down, convincing himself that this nightmare will not be a sign of a bad day. It was just a reflection of what he witnessed back then. He closed his eyes, remembering every detail he absorbed. A lot of details, scattered here and there like a field that is barely hosting few bundles of flowers here and there.

On that couch was the gun. On that table was the brief note she left. On that carpet was her blood, coloring the carpet with years of a life that ended on a desperate moment. She wanted her suffering to end, he gave her a hand in that, but she left this world for good, and she will not be able to return the favor. That left him no choice. He must disappear. That note was enough to clear him out in front of everyone, but not himself. He helped her out in this, and he was only helping. He couldn’t deny her an end of suffering.

Picking his scattered pride and fear, he left the room silently and started to walk back home. He must hide his feelings, and act like he never committed her suicide.

Getting out of bed and opening the door to leave his room was to him like abandoning his fortified castle and facing the unknown, but he was embraced with the warmth of his mother’s eyes. That pained him so much. What if something happened and his actions were exposed? How would he meet the disappointment in those loving eyes? No one would ever imagine how hard he wanted to be a child again, to throw his head in his mother’s lap and cry his fear out.

A hard knock on the door moved his heart from its place. He wanted to scream, but the choke of his throat prevented him from pleading his mother not to answer that knock. And it was too late. They came in, running, as if he was a bird that needed to be captured before it flew away. His strength betrayed him, his body was carried by the harsh hands of those guards. Terror overwhelmed his body, prevented him from hosting the pain of being thrown in that iron-fenced vehicle. He stared through the iron bars, and the line that connected his sight to his mother’s started to stretch as the vehicle moved. Only her screams kept his company at first, then it was only the roaring of the vehicle that carried captivity on its back wherever it went. His house kept on growing smaller and smaller until it faded away. That made him alone and surrounded by guardians of fear.

Like an ignorant sheep being taken to slaughter, he was directed through the dark alleys only to sit on a cold iron chair and facing a man wearing a frown that carried all the cruelty of the world. This frown was the crown of two bright eyes that couldn’t be any darker. Those eyes demanded one thing. Only one thing. A confession…

Breaking the Silence “1 of 3”

They asked him to confess…

He grouped his fingers together, tightened his shoulders, and ducked his head. What do they want him to confess about? He didn’t know. Searching the roof corners for an answer, he opened his mouth, but words didn’t come out. They thought he was stalling and he thought they were pressuring him. “Lock him up” a scream exploded in the cold room, with anger radiating more than a nuclear bomb does. Two guards grabbed his elbows and buried him inside the four walls. He tried so hard to wake up, but it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a reality that tasted more bitter than pain itself. The cruel iron wall screamed before blending in with the walls. He roamed the room, chose the wall that faced the failing attempt of what they called a window. There was still some daylight. If they finished with him early, he can manage to go back home and pretend nothing had happened. No one would know about this, only if he got out on time.

They called him back again. The screamed harder this time, as if it hated being apart from the walls. As if it wanted his company for ever. Grabbed by his elbows again, he ducked his head, and threw his tears down as he walked forward. Maybe he will follow them back to his cell.

They sat him on that naked iron chair. IT was as hard and cold as the eyes of the one who was waiting for him to confess. His lips refused to split up, his voice denied his authority and left him to suffer alone. They waited for his words to come out, and waited for the confession. His eyes focused on the floor under his feet, he folded his hands and sighed. They sighed back. The man with the hard voice got up from his chair, and left the room. That was not a good sign. He didn’t order his men to take him back to his cell, then why is he being grabbed by his elbows again and again???

There was the last drop of tears that he left on the floor. Why then were they taking him? That passage was dark, too dark, but his eyes embraced the darkness, only to make it worse. That passage ended with a door. An iron thick door, that looked like it was made only to open once for every soul coming through. They stopped. One of the guards moved forward, worked his hands thoroughly, and with massive strength, the door finally opened. The darkness inside was darker than all the black ideas that took shelter in his head. The guard that opened the door retreated quickly, and the one next to him pushed him forward. As if the guards feared that door as well. As if that door saved severe agony behind it, only to serve it to its unique trembling guests.

He was pushed harder, and forward until they threw him inside. This door screamed as well. Screamed louder and harder than any agonizing wound. The door united with the walls, thundering a slam like no other. It was silence that conquered his ears inside, only to be disturbed by his rapid heartbeats and consecutive attempts to breath. The passage was empty. The thick door was peaceful, stable and strong enough to terminate every and any voice attempting to break the silence…

A Mistake

Hard floor under his back, extreme darkness surrounded him as he was not sure if his eyes were open. He focused for a second, tried to remember why is he lying on the floor, but nothing came to his troubled mind. Moved his hands around, waved them up above, but nothing was there. He got up on his knees, tapping his hands on the cold floor to make a way and suddenly, light flashed all over the place. He tried to cover his eyes with his elbow, waited for a minute so his eyes could get used to the light, and opened them to have a look around.

He was in a room of white and smooth walls. But something was missing. With a frown conquering his crumbled face, he searched thoroughly for the door of this room, but there wasn’t any. There wasn’t even a window. To his amazement, light came from nowhere. It was just there filling the creepy room. Putting his thumb and two other fingers, he squeezed his forehead trying to summon reasonable answers. How did he get in here? Why? When? And even where is he? But these were questions he couldn’t answer. Black visions roamed his head.

Reaching the more static questions, panic was taking place. Who is he? Who was he? What is he turning into? Only the echo of his questions thundered in his head. He doesn’t remember existing before. He doesn’t have whatsoever knowledge. An empty vessel worth nothing to fill it with. He must escape this nothingness and get out to existence. But fear is taking over. What will be waiting for him out there? What should he expect to find? Starting to exist? There might not be any place for him to fit in. With the drums of these thoughts, a squared crack started to paint itself on one of the walls.

But, no! He will not escape. He must stay and maybe fade away. At this very thought, the walls started to dissolve. The floor turned into millions of pixels and his balance was running away from him. He is falling down. No, he is not falling, he is fading away. Darkness is eating him, swallowing him into a deeper level. Maybe it is too late to fight it now. His last thought turned into dust, scattered in chaos, and it was only darkness again.