Only Silence

It was quiet. So so quiet. Silent, even.

The library was quiet. The Host was quiet. Sitting there, feeling the blood run down his cheeks, gather at his chin, and drop off down onto his clothes. It was the only thing he felt. Other than the silence.

The silence was pressing down on him, deafening in its completeness.

Hadn’t he wished for this?

For silence. For the narrations to stop, to give him a bit of quiet. To not have a headache from the amount of words flooding his mind. To not have to move his lips and speak what his mind was supplied with.

But now he had the silence. And the silence was almost painful.

It was weird. It felt weird. He wasn’t used to this, and he didn’t like it. It was so so silent, and for all he knew, he could be entirely alone. Everyone else could be gone. Something terrible could have happened, and he wouldn’t know.

He was just here, alone, in the library. By himself.

And the silence.

He concentrated on the feeling of blood on his face. The only thing that ground him, that kept him in this reality. Making him remember he was real, he was here, he was existing and alive. But it was the only thing

And soon, he got used to it.

The feeling of blood on him was just another thing. And who said he wasn’t imagining this? Who said he was real? Maybe he didn’t exist anymore. Maybe he never truly did. Maybe he wasn’t really sitting here, in this silence.

It hurt.

He was alone, and the world felt empty around him. It was a scary thought, to be all alone. To be well and truly alone. To not have any other living and breathing being around him, nothing else to make sounds, to speak, to laugh, to cry, to shout. He was alone, all alone, and only silence accompanied him.

He hated silence, he hated this silence, and he wished for his narrations to come back. He wished for this silence to end. He wished for it all to end, if it meant he wouldn’t be feeling this painful silence anymore.

“But the Host’s narrations didn’t come back. The Host was just talking to himself, trying to feel normal. Like his narrations hadn’t left. Like the silence wasn’t there, wasn’t something unwanted.

But the Host is alone. Even his muttering couldn’t help him feel better.

There was only silence.”.