Monday 10 March 2014

2011 Retrospective - The Light in our Eyes



The price of Silence went up today. You heard that somewhere... after you came home from work. Where was it? On the television, likely. It was blaring away as you walked in the door. As it always is, every single day. Your spouse met you at the door, but the children stayed in the other room, under the television’s sheltering glow. You can’t blame them, really. They’re only young. They don’t understand what it says to them, but they feel safe all the same.  As safe as anyone can be these days. Best not to think about that, though. Best to just put it out of your mind. Crime is down, after all. Theft, rape... all gone. That’s got to count for something, right?

You hear a fanfare from the other room, and everyone rushes in to cluster around the television. The News is starting! Everybody loves the News, and everyone watches it. The News can always be depended on to bring the latest information about what is happening in society, and changes to the prices of goods and commodities. But more importantly than that, on a visceral, subconscious level, the News is safe. Watching the News is the only time, ever, that there is a 100% certainty that you will not have an... incident. Without the use of Silence, anyway.  For some reason, because of some strange coincidence- and it must be coincidence, it must!- the News grants immunity to the Noise.

Some people, the older ones, tell stories of a time before the Noise. You smile at them when they say it, listen politely and thank them when they are finished.  After all, no need to hurt their feelings. No need to make their situations any worse. Because you know that they’ve been affected... had too many incidents, or just gone ‘round the bend. There’s really no need to point out that it’s not true. That it can’t be true. A time without the Noise is... inconceivable. It’s impossible! The Noise is everywhere, always. Every second of every single day it is there, twisting and turning in the back of your mind. Sometimes you can almost tune it out, push it down and away until it is no more than a faintly sickening shudder in the back of your mind. You can’t talk about it, can’t even think about it, because that might call it. And sometimes, sometimes you can’t suppress it. It thunders into your mind, stretching, growing until it feels like your head will explode, bursting from the pressure of this jangling, discordant NOISE. It fills you up, and you can’t move, you’re... paralysed. You can’t move, can’t cry for help, can’t even think. You can hardly even breathe, for you’re trapped in its disjointed pathways, its skewed rhythm beating against your mind. There is only the Noise, etching itself into every raw nerve.

Slowly, after a painful eternity, the Noise subsides, until you can move again, can regain some semblance of function. But every time a wave leaves you, you can feel it taking a little piece of your mind as it sinks back into the subliminal. Each and every time, you lose a piece of your sanity to the Noise. Every incident you have, a piece of your humanity is lost forever.

That’s why everybody loves the News. Absolutely, 100% incident free. Sometimes it even seems like the Noise isn’t there. That it’s gone. But it never is, and that’s why Silence is so valuable. Silence, that wonderful product that keeps the Noise at bay. With Silence, you can live your life without every worrying about an incident taking you or your family. Provided you have enough, for you have to use it constantly. Nothing can save you once the Noise takes you, not even Silence. There is no cure for an incident, only prevention. Constant Silence, forever. Or else.

The News ends, and you can hear that droning madness buzzing in the back of your mind. Why? What happened? You have Silence, you keep it above the kitchen sink. So why can you hear it? Why aren’t you protected from the Noise? You run to the kitchen, trying desperately to think of anything but what could happen to you at any moment now that you’re vulnerable. You clatter to a halt, seeing the box of Silence standing empty on the counter. The last box. You must have more, and quickly. You must! So you sprint to the depot, as fast as you can. You push people aside as you run, those standing straight in Silence, those hunched under the Noise. You skirt past a dark alley, and finally you’re inside, staring at the comforting rows of Silence lining the shelves. The Noise swells in the back of your mind, and you panic, grabbing all the boxes you can hold. You turn, but the price draws you up short.

It’s... insane. How can they possibly ask that for it? They know people need it, know how much they rely on it. So why is it quadruple its price, if not more? You look down at the boxes in your arms. There’s no way you can afford this. Your family needs to eat, right? But maybe... maybe starvation is better than insanity... because-

Because you’ve seen those who’ve been touched by the Noise. Those who can’t afford Silence. Oh, they look normal enough from a distance. But get close, and you can see it. They’re... not right in the head. Twisted somehow, changed. As they draw close you see the unholy spark in their hungry eyes, and the fear of death creeps up your spine. Will it go for your throat? It might. Or it might follow you home, may claw at your door into the lonely hours of the night, screaming vituperous rage all the while. The quiet ones are the worst. They’ll pass you by, watching with their inhuman orbs. They’ll follow you home as well, but you won’t know it. Because they won’t scream at your door, they’ll climb in a window, or a chimney, or find some other slippery way in. You won’t wake up, if that happens. You wouldn’t want to.
                                                                                                                   
Now all you can think of is the brown eyes of your precious little girl. So wide, so innocent. And you see a nightmare flame igniting in them as her vicious smile sets your flesh crawling, making you wonder just how long it will take you to die... You’ll do anything to prevent that, ANYTHING. Even starve her, though it breaks your heart. But wait! Maybe there’s a way you can avoid both? Because what’s that further along down the aisle? It’s something you’ve never seen before, a new product. Quiet. Cheaper than Silence, that’s for sure. But maybe, it’s not as good? The name certainly suggests it. Nevertheless, this gives you a chance to feed your family and avoid insanity. Quiet should hold the Noise off. For a time. You hope.

Another new product  catches your eye, so you venture further along, the Noise in your head reduced to a stray whisper. Black boxes, and gray, as far as the eye can see. Dark and... Dim. What could they possibly be for? Surely there’s n-

Frenzied screams pierce the air as an actinic light blinds you, making your eyes water furiously. You blink, but your eyes can’t adjust to the blazing white light that surrounds you from every direction. Scintillating patterns, white on white, dance upon your retinas, demented spirals tugging your mind in all different directions. It fills your eyes, fills your mind until there is nothing else. You can’t move, can’t think, can barely even breathe. There is only this, this incident that nothing will save you from. The Noise is quiet for now, almost quiescent as you suffer.

Maybe you’ll die here, with the white in your eyes, mind irrevocable snapped. Maybe you’ll become one of the touched, preying upon those who’ve staved off insanity for one more day. Or maybe you’ll walk home with its patterns still dancing in the back of your mind, making your vision slip and tunnel. And in time, you’ll become one of those pitiable old people, telling anyone who’ll listen sad stories about a time before the Light.

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