Silence isn’t really silent.
It’s not loud, exactly. But it sits under things, making the little sounds stand out: my heartbeat in my ears, the sharp echo of the kitchen clock, the fridge humming. I move, and the rustle of me fills my head. Splinter laps water from his bowl.
His eyes tell me when it’s time to eat. Alarms go off when it’s time to wake.
Sleep, wake, eat, school, home, homework, dinner, TV, sleep. Wake.
Time goes weird. It keeps tripping over itself and dropping things. I stand in one room and then I’m sitting in another but how I got there is gone.
And something grows. Pushing into my head. Something else…