Silence can be harrowing.
Silence can be harrow, but in this spectator's mind silence would be a gift. A mercy bestowed upon them. Ringing, screaming, gut-wrenching sobs, blaring alarms sounded around this spectator. Paralysed in fear? shock? horror? They watched, they spectated as they saw chaos and mayhem surround them. Experiencing an out of body moment, feeling like an imposter in the very vessel they were born with. Banging on the cage wanting to be released. Screaming to do something with the capabilities they have, with the very hands that were seized in crushing emotions unable to unfurl. Their rationale scolding when with ferocious 'what ifs'. Scenarios that will never be answered if one could help it. When all was said and done, the alarms were gone, the screaming toned down to raspy pleas. the sobs were reduced down to whimpers and nothing more but quiet environments. The silence once asked for no longer existed in this line of work, the silence was a constant reminder that sound started the invisible clock for those around you and yourself. Silence was a reminder that it was not as peace or reliving as every being proclaims it to be. But a constant. A constant reminder that when gifted with silence, ther is a price to pay for it. Loneliness, Despair, Devastation, Grief, Sorrow. A reminder that Silence can be harrowing.
