The Horrors of Silence

 

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Chapter 1

                Silence had been outlawed.

                The government decreed that silence was a distraction. What that really meant was that silence allowed the masses to think for themselves. Thinking allows for change, for choices to be made. If someone was allowed to think for themselves, they could think about the rules instead of following them. And if anyone thought about the rules, they would think of a way to get around them or ignore them completely. When the governed ignore the rules set in place by the governing, chaos ensues. How else did you explain the wars of the world of old?

                People cannot be allowed to think for themselves. They cannot be allowed any opportunity to be left alone with personal thoughts.

                Therefore, the government installed radios in every home, every classroom, every store, every business. There was even talk of scientists working on creating a radio that could be surgically implanted in the brain, an extra precaution against the horrors of silence.

                There was constant chatter, constant noise, at all hours of the day. You woke hearing the announcements from officials and went to sleep with them reminding you that tomorrow was just around the bend. Between announcements, instrumental music played. The sound of strings and brass melded together in a calming manner, the rises and falls of notes giving your brain something to keep track of and dissect.

                It was easy to forget that there had once been a time that silence had roamed free, seeping into your ears and invading your mind. The constant noise wrapped around you, keeping you safe and warm like a favorite blanket.

                Which is why it was so startling when the noise stopped.

                You almost didn’t notice it. It started as a tickling in the back of your mind, an animalistic instinct that something was wrong. But nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. ‘All quiet on the Western Front’, as the saying used to go.

                Quiet.

                It was incredibly loud, despite its name. Deafening.

                It placed fear in the hearts of everyone, creating quite a panic. Something had to be wrong. Were you under attack? What unholy terror was about to be unleashed?

                Finally, after what felt like centuries, the radios began to emit a white noise, a pleasant static. It was a new noise, yes, but much more reassuring than dead silence.

                Through the crackles, a strange voice whispered one thing.

                Your name.

                It repeated it over and over, gaining volume with every repetition.

                Terror began to creep up on you, winding its icy fingers around your heart and lungs. The quiet had been chilling, but this was terrifying. 

                But not as terrifying as the pounding that soon sounded on your door.

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Sara Shawn Johnston

I really liked the passages "there had once been a time that silence roamed free" and "it started as a tickling in the back of your mind, an animalistic instinct that something was wrong"

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