I'm frightened by what I hear,
but somehow I know that there's much more to come.
-"Whisper", Evanescence
Can You Hear It?
(Knowing)
Can you hear it?
The whispers. The warnings. Why aren't you listening?
They're telling me things, things you can't hear. They're warning me, warning you. Telling me things that I can't make sense of, numbers and names, in such light, feathery voices.
They talk to me, sometimes, when they're not saying numbers. More then my mommy. She doesn't believe me. She's telling me I'm ridiculous, stop playing games with her.
This isn't a game. Something bad will happen.
Why aren't you listening to me? To them? Why can't you hear it?
I can't think anymore. They haven't stopped talking. All night, all day. I don't think, they think for me. It makes my head hurt.
126923928 and 4887300 and they pause, then start again. I have to write it down. I have to. My bones are bending and twitching and my skin itches and I have to write it. But they'res nothing to write with. The door is hard. It hurts. I'm driving my nails down it, up it, then down it. The numbers are screaming at me, running through my veins like some kind of sickly disease.
Someone has to know. Someone has to stop it...stop them...stop...
I want my mommy...my daddy...stop!
Why are you ignoring me?
Why can't you hear it?
Can...you...hear...it...