She was beginning to understand why it was she would stay out later and later into the night. Silence. Not like the awkward pause between the relentless questioning and her own monosyllable answers. Nor the pensive quiet while her family would take a breath before exploding with their unstoppable noise. Words words words, always talking, always yelling, always screaming... like so many angry gnats buzzing inside your ears; too small to hit and too much to ignore.
No. Real silence. The sort of stillness that inspires poetry in the complete absence of the unneeded. She understood why monks would retreat into the untouched mountain peaks. Wished for the same.
Movement. Her form tenses, hands automatically grabbing for a way to defend herself. Finding only dirt. The edges of panic claws her spine. Her ears hear the dry grass break under the steps of the faceless prowler. Deliberate, heavy strides; closer now.
The panic grips her tightly. Her body moves with practiced silence, yet her mind rings with a thousand frightened thoughts. Her back against the stone. Soft breaths; thundering heartbeat. The question of who not even asked; it didn't matter. The desperate need to remain unseen is her only drive. The reason is unquestioned; she simply has to.
Steps still too close. The shadows flowing around the wall shiver on their own. One forms itself leisurely into a wiry figure. Shakes in silent laughter. Mocking her. Shadows never had to hide. They were always such. Resentment grows in her panicked mind. The intruder still approaches her location, but the emotion refuses to stop.
More of them appear. Flowing down the stone and onto the grass. Flitter across the trees. Laughing, grinning invisible smiles. Her body presses against the cool rock, hands digging into the dirt.
Movement closer.
Anger and spite against the laughter; against the intrusion on her rare moment of pure silence. Eyes closed against the figures, yet they still dance across her vision.
Another sound, nearer.
Back aching at the hard surface of the stone, but her body continues to push. Impossible desire to press against it more, deeper, darker.
A voice mutters a curse as a stride misses its intended location and stumbles.
Her own silent voice of shock as her body jerks backwards into shadow.
Completely dark.
The figures surround her.
No longer shades and silence.
So dark.
Twisted beings and whispers.
Darkness, immense darkness.
Familiar surroundings mere outlines in warped world.
Too much.
Writhing silhouettes rasping her skin.
Hysteria overwhelms her. Her body topples out of shadow and into dim moonlight. Glazed eyes betray momentary unconsciousness.
The interloper tramps by her umbrous form, unaware of her ever being there.
She awakens some minutes later, taking a split second to remember, and immediately decides she needs silence... of sleep.
She sprints to her bed, leaving behind shadows quivering in soundless laughter.
