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The sun was too bright that day. I had to squint so much I could barely see two inches in front of me. Finally I gave up and put my hand over my eyes. I'd probably be inside for the rest of the day.
I began to head home, looking at the small cottages on either side of the dusty gravel road. They seemed utterly still, as if no one had ever been inside them. I wasn't too far from my house; just two blocks away. The street was completely empty except for me. The sound of gravel crunching under my plain white sneakers echoed through the profound quiet.
While I enjoyed the silence, I knew it was bad for me to be absolutely alone with my thoughts. When I had the chance to really think, my imagination got away from me.
In an attempt to fill the silence, I started humming a random tune. I was making it up as I walked along, no particular melody or rythym to it.I was simply letting my vocal cords do as they pleased. You can't block me out, you know, the all too familiar voice whispered in the back of my mind.
"Leave me alone," I ordered under my breath. Everyone would always look at me like I was crazy when I tried to quiet the voice. They didn't believe someone was actually talking to me. They all thought there was something wrong with my brain.
They were the ones that were wrong though. He sat there, teasing and taunting me, and got the satisfaction of making me look like a madwoman when I finally answered him. I didn't dare give him a name. That would make him think he was actually welcome in my private thoughts.
What's this? he asked while in the middle of probing my thoughts. You hate me? You want me to go away? He sounded incredulous, though he picked those thoughts out of my mind every day. Dear, dear Violet; why ever would you think such hurtful thoughts? His voice made it seem as though he was genuinely hurt, but he was a very good actor.
"You know exactly why!" I shouted at him. "Whenever I answer you, I have to do it out loud which makes me look insane because for some reason, you won't listen to my mental voice! In fact, I hate you because you even talk to me at all!" I was ranting at the top of my lungs and didn't care who heard. I was fed up with him making me look mental.
"That is it, you little demon." My voice was a cold murmur. "You can talk to me all you want, but I won't answer. Go ahead and scream and taunt and do all you can to provoke a response, but this is the last reply you'll ever get from me. No. Matter. What."
He was actually stunned. I gave a small, satisfied nod to no one in particular, followed by a barely audible "Hmph". I started back on my way, ignoring the bewildered stares of the street's residents that had come out to see what all the yelling was about. I strutted past them with my head high.
I had silenced my tormentor. Hopefully, for good.
- Title: A Voice.
- Artist: Mr Thelma
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Description:
I just randomly started writing two days ago with no specific purpose, and I got this.
I'm not sure if I'm just going to make it a short story, or if I'll continue it and make it a book.. Criticism is appreciated, but please keep it positive.
:) - Date: 07/05/2009
- Tags: voice
- Report Post
Comments (3 Comments)
- Azrael Xavan - 07/14/2009
- this is good.
- Report As Spam
- Mr Thelma - 07/13/2009
- Thankies!
- Report As Spam
- tune1199 - 07/12/2009
- this is really good
- Report As Spam