My cell phone rang today. It was my wife.
It took me a while to find the device when it first went off – I had left it charging in the bathroom. I ran through the house, fearful that it would stop ringing before I found it. When I saw who was calling, it shocked me so much I nearly didn’t answer it. I wish I hadn’t. There was no one there. I said hello. Screamed it. Cried it. Begged for someone to speak to me.
Then I understood. It was the Silence calling. I had kept it out for the last several days. Playing music while printing what I could from the Internet. But now it had called me. It did not want me to shut it out – it would not allow me to ignore it. It wanted me to know that it was still there… waiting.
I stood there listening as it screamed at me. I felt its anger reaching through the handset. Its hate. Malice dripped from every soundless second that passed.
In the end, it broke me.
I found myself curled up in a ball on the floor. Not sure how long I was there, time is becoming meaningless, but the sun had already set.
Next to me was my pistol. I wrapped my fingers around its grip. Rested my index finger on its trigger. I brought it up under my chin and cried myself to sleep.