I opened my eyes. I open them again. I opened my eyes. I open my eyes to
silence. The sun flashes through the trees like street lights passing
overhead in the night sky while your driving away from someone. The wind
is blowing leaves over my jacket and across my face. This is the most
peace I have felt in many years. I can't hear anything, not even the
wind, not even the squirrel that scurries up the tree beside me. It
looks surprised to see me awake. He stops mid-trunk, looks at me and
stares into my soul, searching for a threat, then tears up to the top.
Life is happening in slow motion and I have no real desire to speed it
up.
My life is too fast. I wake to the world forcing me to be somewhere. I sleep as a necessity to get me to where I have to be tomorrow. I am a soldier marching on through whatever is happening in this giant spinning sphere. There is a tightness in my chest, so bad sometimes that I have to remind myself to take a breath and then another. I feel smothered and sinking. I haven't spoken to my family in so long...never have the time. My mom calls three times a week and I don't even listen to her messages anymore. It's not that I don't love her, it's that I don't have time for her. I don't have time for anything. They came to my house last Thanksgiving in Seattle at my mom's insistence. My dad just sat at the end of the table and ate quietly while my mom waited on me, probing me with questions. "Do I have a girlfriend?" "What's my job like?" "Where do I do my grocery shopping?" I told her I had to sleep and we all went to bed. Through the wall, I heard my dad ask her if they could just grab their stuff and leave in the night. I woke the next morning and they were gone. My mom left a hundred dollars on the pillow. I haven't heard from my dad since. I haven't spoken to my mom since. I have always felt so ashamed for that night.
Right now I feel nothing but silence, so I choose to stay still for a while...just until I can feel my feet moving across the pavement. My body seems to be moving across the path, but I don't feel any part of me. I do find it strange that no one is on the streets, in fact the place looks like crap. The buildings are dilapidated and the sidewalks are split in pieces by weeds refusing to be ignored.
"There's nobody here! No one is left!" Shouting a voice from nowhere and all around me, seeming to shout from the inside of my body to the outside. "What? Where are you? What's your name?" I shout back. Silence. No answer. I am no longer relaxed. I start to run, but still cannot feel my feet. I look down and now cannot see my feet. I panic and turn into a store and slide through the door handle and stumble through the glass and into the room. I had meant for my feet to stop and they didn't. I had meant for my body to hit the glass, but it didn't, yet I am in this room. I see the phone and try to grab it and nothing happens. I scream in frustration and still nothing happens.
"Think about picking up the phone without your hands and just speak to who you want to speak to," says this voice again, this voice that sounds arrogant, that has a hint of laughter, like he is making fun of me. My dad used to do that when I would argue with him, like he knew the answer and the future and was going to just go along with me and laugh at me when I failed.
I reach for the phone again and nothing. So I close my eyes, which I assume I must have because it became dark when I did so. "Call my mom." Ring. "Yes!" "Hello?" "Dad?" "I'm no one's dad, he says laughing. Who might I ask is calling me?" "It's Mason, is my mom there, Shelly Morgan? Is this even the right number?" I say. Laughing comes from the other side of the phone. "Who is this?!" I say. "This is Shelly Morgan's answering machine." "What? Stop messing around, is she there?" "She's not here anymore. No one is here anymore, they are all gone into the ground. They all went screaming," he says. "Stop it! Who is this?!" "This is the only voice you'll ever hear again. You won't like me much now, but when the silence becomes deafening to your mind, you will pray to me for my voice."
More to come, to be continued.......
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
My life is too fast. I wake to the world forcing me to be somewhere. I sleep as a necessity to get me to where I have to be tomorrow. I am a soldier marching on through whatever is happening in this giant spinning sphere. There is a tightness in my chest, so bad sometimes that I have to remind myself to take a breath and then another. I feel smothered and sinking. I haven't spoken to my family in so long...never have the time. My mom calls three times a week and I don't even listen to her messages anymore. It's not that I don't love her, it's that I don't have time for her. I don't have time for anything. They came to my house last Thanksgiving in Seattle at my mom's insistence. My dad just sat at the end of the table and ate quietly while my mom waited on me, probing me with questions. "Do I have a girlfriend?" "What's my job like?" "Where do I do my grocery shopping?" I told her I had to sleep and we all went to bed. Through the wall, I heard my dad ask her if they could just grab their stuff and leave in the night. I woke the next morning and they were gone. My mom left a hundred dollars on the pillow. I haven't heard from my dad since. I haven't spoken to my mom since. I have always felt so ashamed for that night.
Right now I feel nothing but silence, so I choose to stay still for a while...just until I can feel my feet moving across the pavement. My body seems to be moving across the path, but I don't feel any part of me. I do find it strange that no one is on the streets, in fact the place looks like crap. The buildings are dilapidated and the sidewalks are split in pieces by weeds refusing to be ignored.
"There's nobody here! No one is left!" Shouting a voice from nowhere and all around me, seeming to shout from the inside of my body to the outside. "What? Where are you? What's your name?" I shout back. Silence. No answer. I am no longer relaxed. I start to run, but still cannot feel my feet. I look down and now cannot see my feet. I panic and turn into a store and slide through the door handle and stumble through the glass and into the room. I had meant for my feet to stop and they didn't. I had meant for my body to hit the glass, but it didn't, yet I am in this room. I see the phone and try to grab it and nothing happens. I scream in frustration and still nothing happens.
"Think about picking up the phone without your hands and just speak to who you want to speak to," says this voice again, this voice that sounds arrogant, that has a hint of laughter, like he is making fun of me. My dad used to do that when I would argue with him, like he knew the answer and the future and was going to just go along with me and laugh at me when I failed.
I reach for the phone again and nothing. So I close my eyes, which I assume I must have because it became dark when I did so. "Call my mom." Ring. "Yes!" "Hello?" "Dad?" "I'm no one's dad, he says laughing. Who might I ask is calling me?" "It's Mason, is my mom there, Shelly Morgan? Is this even the right number?" I say. Laughing comes from the other side of the phone. "Who is this?!" I say. "This is Shelly Morgan's answering machine." "What? Stop messing around, is she there?" "She's not here anymore. No one is here anymore, they are all gone into the ground. They all went screaming," he says. "Stop it! Who is this?!" "This is the only voice you'll ever hear again. You won't like me much now, but when the silence becomes deafening to your mind, you will pray to me for my voice."
More to come, to be continued.......
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
