Not all things are meant to be hunted.
A Fiction, Thriller, Nightmare, Short Story
I spent countless hours pursuing silence, eagerly wandering through spaces like empty parking lots and abandoned fields. Everywhere I went, I was met with stillness punctuated by the occasional croak of a bullfrog or distant rumble of thunder. The noise seemed to grow more oppressive by the day, and my longing for pure silence intensified. As much as I tried, I couldn't quite obtain the near-impossible level of peace I craved.
I settled into my cozy meditation dome, zoning out the world around me as I concentrated on finding the quietude I had longed for.
As I entered a deeper state of consciousness, the voices of the dead that constantly buzzed in my ears softened to a low hum, and the roar of nature and screams of distress seemed to blend together and muffle down into the depths of the earth. A wave of joyous relief swept over me; I was almost there. What felt like an eternity of searching lasted merely a few seconds; everything around me faded away, and all that remained was an almost profound stillness. I wanted desperately to bask at this moment, to feel as if I were somehow special for finding something no one else ever has: true silence. So there, in that warm and tranquil cocoon, I realized how connected I could be with myself, allowing me to experience a sense of freedom like never before.
I felt the warmth of the room wrap around me, seeping into my pores, until I was enraptured by its embrace. The tension left my body, and all sounds became muffled and distant. Before I knew it, I had relaxed onto the invisible fur-covered floor and was curled up in a blanket of air so soft and gentle that I could feel it holding me ever so gently.
In my trance state, I dropped my guard. Like a toxic gas, my dome fogged, and I began to gag. I felt my body relax, and my vision blurred. My head felt thick and heavy, and I could feel the air being sucked out of the room. My heart was pounding in my chest as if it wanted to escape. The voices were back, louder than ever. The stillness around me seemed alive with energy, calling out in a language I barely understood. Worst of all, I could feel something dark lurking beyond my conscious mind, something sinister that was eager to enter my reality.
Piercing commotion ached in my mind, wrapping around me like a dense fog, trapping my thoughts and preventing clarity. Everywhere, the noise seemed to be crushing, almost suffocating, in its intensity. I tried to take a deep breath, but the air was too thick and heavy, and the air I inhaled felt stale and lifeless.
The world pressed against my ears, a symphony of discordant sounds that invaded every inch of my mind. It was like the beating of a thousand drums and the painful screech of metal on metal all at once. As I tried to ignore it, the noise grew louder, threatening to consume me whole.
But beneath the cacophony, I heard something else. A soft whisper that seemed to emanate from the shadows themselves, speaking in a language that both intrigued and frightened me. I strained my ears to hear better, and suddenly, everything shifted. I had to still be in my head;
I couldn't see. I wondered if my eyes were open. Had I been blinded? Was I dead? I leaned in to get a better listen and felt myself falling from a great height, my body spinning through the air towards an unknown destination. I tried to scream, but the wind whipped by my ears, obscuring my voice. I could feel the coldness of the air on my skin, and the darkness seemed to be reaching out to me, beckoning me down to an unknown fate.
The terror of my descent was so overwhelming that I could barely feel anything after a few seconds. I felt like my body was trapped in an invisible prison, and the darkness was like a thick curtain that I could not see through. I wanted to cry out for help, but who would hear me? My voice had been taken away, smothered by the heavy silence that lingered like a curse. A curse I had beckoned.
As the darkness of my blindness swallowed me up, I felt my mind drift away from reality. I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of peace. I was aware I was in danger, yet I felt like something was drawing me in—an invisible force that promised safety and protection. On the one hand, I wanted to linger in this unfamiliar world; on the other, I knew I had to fight my way out.
I clung to the last thought that crossed my mind before the void completely engulfed me. It was a blissful sound in the chaotic moments of my fall.
The whispers of comfort, no roaring or screaming. A faint voice called out from the fog surrounding my thoughts, and I strained to focus on the source. Listening more closely, I could make out a single word, "Mommy." A calm warmth washed over me as tears of joy trickled down my face as I indulged in the memory of my daughter's calling out to me, and I felt the reassuring embrace of my husband's arms wrap around me. "I got you, my love." His gentle whisper in my ear brought back memories of love. Finally at peace, I opened my eyes and sighed in relief as I drifted from my daytime nightmare.
Since, I abandoned my desperate search for silence and embraced the power of my gifts. I fought to take control of them and vowed to be grateful for all I was meant to hear. There is no such thing as true silence; the persistent pursuit of something that does not exist will only drive one to insanity.
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