Author's Note: Ever since Lana said 'hello darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again' I've felt the need to write a song-fic about this song because I think it's my favourite Simon and Garfunkel song and since it appeared in Gone, it gave me more of a reason to write it. The lyrics don't really go with any situation so I've twisted them to fit and as I've been writing I've come to see that they fit quite nicely. Anyway, this was going to be a fiction about Lana and some other characters, each one having a separate paragraph but I think Sam suits this song a lot more. It's a little dark but I hope you enjoy it. (Reading back on it, I thought it would be better. But it's done now and I hope you still like it). Any confusion, just ask and any improvements, just say. Please don't be afraid to give me feedback, it really is much appreciated.
I have come to know darkness as an old friend and enemy. It's been there when I needed shelter, a hiding place. But it's been there to taunt me, to haunt me, to fill my dreams and my thoughts full of things you couldn't possibly imagine. Yes, the darkness has been there even before the FAYZ, but now it's worse. There was one time when I hid in the darkness, trying to get away from my role as hero. But now the darkness is just a hole for me. A hole in which I will one day fall and be consumed...by the ever growing darkness.
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
One dark night I stood and listened to the silence that seemed to echo it was so great. Sleep hadn't come easily to me since the FAYZ began and I stood in the darkness. The darkness around me, the darkness that was ignorance, the darkness that was evil, the darkness that forever clouded my mind and the darkness at the end of the tunnel. The darkness concealed within the glowing light. I had the most disturbing dreams, the most despairing thoughts that seemed to take root inside my mind and stay there, no matter how hard I tried to shake them off. It was times like this, when people weren't around, that I really had time to think about my situation. About the things that were going on. Problems. So many problems. But it was also the time when my dreams came rushing back to me, my nightmares, my fears. All the death and anguish just washing over me as the silence grew greater and louder than before, drowning out all other noises. All other sounds.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
I walked alone. Restless and afraid. Wanting to get somewhere and find something. Someone. Anything and anyone. But there was nothing. Deserted streets and a clear black sky without a single star. No moon. Just me and the cold stone houses and the darkness. The ever growing darkness, wrapping itself around my body, my very being. My soul. Even though I have friends, allies who stand beside me, when it comes to talking to people, actually standing up there, playing the hero, trying to comfort hundreds of terrified children. I'm alone. Alone. Everyone expects me to be the one to fix things. Me. And stupidly, I always try. I always stand for it and try to fix things alone but it turns on me. It turns on me and comes back to me, making me feel useless. Then there was light. All of a sudden, a bright light, so bright it hurt, flashed across the sky. A green light. Glowing ominously and illuminating my surroundings so I could see. See at last.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
In the light I saw. Saw that I was not alone but surrounded by hundreds of people. Hundreds of children. Their faces sad and old, their mouths turned down and their eyes wide and shining. Brimming with tears of desperation. Their scruffy clothes hung on them like rags, their prominent ribs standing out, their bony arms sagging at their sides. They all stood without saying a word, all stood and listened to the silence. All stood and stared at the darkness. The darkness that had come to claim them all, come to take them with its neon brightness. All the bodies, the facial expressions, the way they stood and held themselves...spoke. Yet not a single word was uttered. Not one single sentence. But, looking at that crowd of people, you knew all there was to know. You understood what was being said. It was a cry for help and a submission to the stronger force. Whenever I stood up, whenever I told them things, did they not hear me? Could they not understand? They heard all right. They heard but didn't listen. Didn't listen to the things I said, the things I told them. I told them it would be ok, I told them all and they all heard but...didn't listen. Maybe it was just as well. Maybe it was best not to get their hopes up. Because is this better? Is this right? Is it good? No, it isn't. It isn't anything that it should be. But it is. It exists and it's bad. Terrible, even. Everyone had this far away look in their eyes. They were thinking things, saying things inside their head. Wanting to do something. But they never said them aloud. Never spoke up to let their thoughts rain down upon others. Voices never shared the songs, the speeches and the thoughts inside these children's' minds. No. They never did and never would because the silence was so great...nobody dared break it.
"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
I got up in front of these people, like I had so many times before. This was possibly the last time I'd ever confront them, ever tell them anything at all. It was my last chance to make them see sense even if my efforts were feeble. "Please, just listen to me!" I said, my voice shattering the silence "you have to fight this! You can't let it win. You can't let the darkness take over." They heard but they didn't listen. "The silence...it's going to kill us. Just speak. Say something, anyone. Tell each other not to give in! Shout and scream and refuse to do what you're told...please." They heard but they didn't listen. The light reflected off hundreds of seemingly identical eyes. Glassy and lost. Looking without seeing. Hearing without listening. Singing songs in their heads but not with their mouths...their hearts. "Please, help me. Help each other. We can't lose..." My voice seemed quiet now, the silence so deafening it drowned my words. "Please..." My voice was a helpless whisper. Helpless. I fell silently, unable to do anything. My words dropped like stones but did not make a sound as they hit the floor for the silence had swallowed them up.
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence
Then all the children, they bowed. They bowed to the neon brightness, the god that they had made. Yes, they made it. Made it in their heads. Because, the darkness wasn't a god but a...well, I'm not too sure what exactly the darkness is but it isn't a god. It's evil. Pure evil and hatred, burning with fury and drunk with power. The darkness wasn't a god but it ruled everyone's minds. It had taken over. They worshiped it. It was now their leader, their dark leader. Then there was a sign. I can't explain what it was, not in words. But there was a sign that everyone saw, heard and felt. The sign warned us, warned us of the dangers and the trouble. Warned us that the darkness meant harm. Warned us of what was to come. But, of course, we already knew this and were powerless to stop it happening. Maybe it was our conscience or something bigger, I don't know but this...voice, it knew what it was talking about. "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls." That's what it said. It said it for all to hear but they didn't listen. They didn't understand. Only I alone looked up to the brightness and understood that what I was seeing was darkness. All this time we'd been looking. Looking in all the faraway places for answers, yet all this time they were right under our noses. We'd been looking for someone great to come and tell us what to do but, really, the great people were us. Us. The kids of Perdido Beach. We were the ones we needed to listen to. Just everyday things, everyday words that would usually mean nothing. Well, they did mean something. They were the answers. We needed to look where we'd been looking all along...just not seeing. All the answers, they were there. Right in front of us. But it was too late. Far too late. So I stood as the darkness consumed me, as it ate my soul and-
Sam woke up. His eyes snapped open and his body tensed as he came out of his nightmare. His dark dream. He rolled out of bed and stood by the open window, letting the daylight take away his fears. It was ok, he was fine. This was still Perdido Beach as he'd left it. Still the same place...or was it? Sam shook his head and ran his hand through his messy hair. What did his dream mean? What was it trying to tell him? Then enlightenment dawned upon him and a smile slowly crept onto his face. Sam didn't know all the answers. No. He had no idea of the answers themselves but he had a pretty good idea of where to look. At 6:00am, Sam stood at his window, a changed person. He stood and listened, listened to the sound of silence and what it told him.