I'd never liked silence.
In my life, noise was a staple. It meant life. Functionality. Stability.
When things got quiet, it meant that something was wrong.
It was silent.
And things were definitely wrong.
I was alone. In solitude, being watched from every angle by people who knew my weakness, and were just waiting for me to break.
Fortunately for them, I wasn't too far off.
Against my will, I was panicking, Trembling. Huddled up in a ball in the corner of my confinement space. The one with padded walls that absorbed most of the noise, so much so that the lack of reverberation was making me so very nauseous.
I might as well have shoved my head in a tissue box. One large enough, of course. Not like the tissue box that I had left with my sister when I was taken.
They hadn't given me a tissue box. They hadn't given me anything. Not even my dignity. Just myself, and the clothes on my back.
If only I could go back...
Well, I could. If only in my mind.
So I did. I retreated to my memories.
Maybe the face of family, the source of my noise, could keep me sane.
The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:
Begin Start typing to begin
Words Reach 50 words
Words Reach 100 words
Prop Include a tissue box
Event Your character travels into the past
An account lets you keep track of your saved stories and unlocks additional perks if you claimed the full app.Login with Google Login with Twitter View saved stories Log out