The sadness, I could see it in his eyes. I think he knew just as well as I did that the end was approaching faster than we’d ever imagined it would. I felt hurt, and I guess he did too, but the underlying problem was that neither of us knew why.
I just remember seeing his smile. Every time his lips curled, I felt as if he was forcing it. That happiness didn’t come naturally anymore. It drove me mad. And slowly, so did every other thing he did. Each little quirk – the noises he made while chewing, the way his breath smelled in the morning, the fact that he constantly picked and pulled at the skin around his fingernails – became, irritating. I almost lost sight of how I ever loved him.
Continue reading “Backwards”
Silent. I don’t know a better way to describe being in that room better than saying it was completely silent. To say “you could hear a pin drop” isn’t enough to depict how silent it really was. The room was noiseless. The type of quiet that made your eardrums feel ballooned. After being in the room for what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, one could start to hear a faint noise. But the noise was just an illusion, a painful one at that. It was a ringing sound, one that pierced through your brain. It grew louder with each millisecond as the surrounding air escaped the room. You’re at the bottom of the ocean. Floating among the sandy ocean floor, being crushed by tons of sea. The salt water filled your ears and drained all hope of hearing anything but that horrifying ring. Breathing wasn’t an option. You hold your breath only to help yourself hear that ring. That lonely, dreadful, infinite ring.
Continue reading “The Auditorium”