The Silent Cry

by Bekotsu

I appologize and you should know before you read this that it isn't tied directly to KH, but I figured it might be a good fan base to maybe read it anyways. I don't know if you've heard of Chuck Palanuick, but he was my muse for this latest edition.

The Silent Cry

If a tree falls in the distance do you hear it? Even though it's one of those lame questions you see on a LIFE cereal box, still isn't it fun to wonder? To think about that complete solitude, that separation from the outside world. Think about it, really. Think about what you could do out there. Think about painting, and sculpting, and living out the rest of your days, and, yes, making love. But, even more exciting, what if you weren't the one doing these things. What if you could care less about painting and all that other crap…what then would intrigue you about this silence? Why would you be inconspicuously drawn to it like a stupid, idiot moth to a stupid, idiot porch light? I'll tell you why, it's because you are a horrible person. You aren't some well meaning member of society, you're a monster, a jerk, a pervert. You dream of what you can get away with. You lay awake at night dreaming of elaborate getaways after that perfect burglary, about "losing" you're girlfriend's kids, about taking the new office receptionist for a little "fun." But what about that one dream? You know the one. It's that feeling you get when you get so angry you could explode. Like when your stupid, idiot boss tells you he didn't get his stupid, idiot report because his stupid, idiot receptionist was flirting with the stupid, idiot mailman. No? Well dig deeper, think back. Remember that feeling you had in high school when that jerk off in algebra class kicked your ass to make you do his homework or just kicking your ass period? Or what about that cheerleader bitch who always flirted with your boyfriend…okay still not ringing any bells? Go even further. When mommy said no more playing with Jimmy next door cause his family was "dirty," or remember when the retarded boy down the street sat on the kaleidoscope you spent 300 fucking cereal box tops on to get? The truth is, children, teenagers, adults, even senior citizens…we all, at one point in our lives, dream to kill. Murder the grandest dream of all, or should I say nightmare?