I used to like the silence, but now I need noise to crowd out all of the dark thoughts that pervade my mind. I onced loved, but that seems so far behind me that I wonder if it really happened at all.
It was a warm day, even for the beginning of September. The leaves on the trees were just barely dead, their fiery orange and reds poised to conquer the rest of the leafscape. I sat in the middle of the bus, the neutral ground between the delinquents in the back and the idiots in the front. I never liked talking, I never liked joining in on those idiotic conversations about who or what they did during the summer. One day though, I met someone who I really did want to talk to. Someone who seemed to understand me on a level beyond even my own comprehension.
The day I met her I lost all sense of pragmatism, following her out to her bus stop even though my house was miles away. I stepped off behind her and noticed the grim surroundings. A graveyard, how fitting. A silent place for silent people. She turned around, her hair undulating in the wind.
“Who are you?” She asked.
“The name’s Parker, and yours?”.
“Mira.”
Three years went by without me realizing it. Yet I was happy, happily in love with Mira.
I was driving, and Mira was next to me, playfully making faces. She smiled and I looked at her for a moment, and then a loud crash. The windshield broke, and millions of glass teardrops fell on us. I saw the stars, the fiery orange of her hair, and blood. Then, nothing. Just silence.
One year has passed since then, and as I walk through the cemetery I see what my world has become. All of the unconquerable headstones are broken and decrepit. I walk towards a large tree, devoid of even the slightest intimation of leaves. I see the stone I'm looking for, it is relatively new. A small granite piece, with the image of a crow carved into it.
Mira, the silent light in all of our lives.
May She Rest In Peace.
Now there is only silence, nothing but cold silence.