The Quiet | Teen Ink

The Quiet

February 3, 2014
By transparantspirit434 PLATINUM, Farmington, New Mexico
transparantspirit434 PLATINUM, Farmington, New Mexico
40 articles 0 photos 40 comments

Favorite Quote:
I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. -Hebrews 13:5


I had forgotten how the silence felt.


I could not hear the sound of my breathing, nor could I hear the sound of the air conditioner or the creaking of the house. Nothing. It was nighttime, and the world was quiet. No, quiet was an understatement. The power is out, I thought to myself. That is why the radio isn’t blaring, and why my fish tank isn’t bubbling. I sat up in my bed, but it didn’t feel right. The silence was surrounding me, stationary but moving, absent but existent. Suffocating. I curled up into a ball instead, hiding under my covers from this abstract concept that could not hurt me, but made me feel small and unidentifiable nonetheless. I could not fall back to sleep, nor could I stay awake. There was no way to escape it.

I grabbed a fistful of blanket and pulled back the covers. This is not a good idea. The thoughts pulsated though my consciousness, but I brushed them away. I un-tangled myself from the sheets and pushed myself out of bed, into a standing position. I stood there for a couple of seconds, staring into the dark, feeling my own heartbeat. And then, I felt my way to the bedroom door, turned the cold knob, and ran.


The hallway was dark, but I was soon at the end of it. I was now running through the streets, into the pitch black. I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to. My feet were taking control, and I could feel them smack against the sidewalk. Every step was a jolt through my body.

I wasn’t reminded that I wasn’t wearing shoes, that I was in my pajamas in the middle of the night, that it was freezing outside, that I had no destination, that I may not be able to find my way back, that everything I was doing was illogical. The idea may have crossed my mind, but I didn’t care about logic. No. All I cared about was go, go, go.


Past the trees, I flew. Past the sleeping houses, I jumped. Past the buildings, I glided. Past the very edges of the city, I didn’t even stop to look back. I just went. I ran and ran until I forgot what I was doing, how I was doing it, and what I was running away from. I just knew that I couldn’t be satisfied.

But, finally, I stopped.


I heaved for breath. I felt grass underneath my feet. I was on top of a hill. The adrenaline had not stopped, and whatever I was running from had not lost its way. Quietness still echoed in my ears in the way that only quietness can manage. I could not run anymore. Instead, I closed my eyes and shouted my defeat.


“OKAY! YOU WIN!”



When I opened my eyes again, I saw the sun rising. I heard the wind rustling the grass. So, I sat down on the hill and shook hands with the quiet that had taught me so much.


The author's comments:
These are kind-of some thoughts I had when I woke up the other night to total and utter silence. I thought it would be cool to write as if it were a force, and not just the absence of sound.

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