I don't own any charachters or plot, these are just my own takes on the scenario.
Please keep in mind that I have only seen the movie, NOT the book. So any similar details are merely coincidental.
This is my first fic. :)
Nothing can dull the pain of losing her father. Clarice misses him, his gentle guidance, his soft assurance. The people she is with now, they don't deserve names. They aren't family. To Clarice, they don't even exist.
The woman calls to her, "Clarice, darling, its time for bed." Clarice rolls her eyes. Under her breath she mutters, "I'm too old for a bedtime." She is tired of them trying to control her life, acting like they are her parents when they are mere shadows of her loved ones.
With her guardians in the room directly across the hall from her own, she flicks the light off and lies down in her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking.
At midnight, Clarice awakes from a deep sleep by the sound of faint screaming. It cuts through her like a knife, breaking her heart. They are screams of pain. Pleading. Feelings and sounds she knows all too well. She sits up in her bed. Remembering. Maybe it was just a dream? She doesn't believe it. She never dreams things so chilling. As quietly as she can, she slithers out of bed and tiptoes across her room to the window. Frightened of what may be waiting for her outside, she peers slightly around from the curtain. Nothing. All that worrying for nothing. The only thing she can see is an old abandoned barn.
Clarice stumbles back to bed, a little embarrassed that she'd actually thought she had heard something outside. But just before she reaches her bed, she hears it again. The heart-wrenching screaming, maybe that of a small child. She dashes back to the window and examines the barn more carefully. There is a dull light shining through the door.
Frantic, Clarice runs from her room across the hall through the door to her guardian's room. No one is there. Where are they? A distant memory flashes in her mind. The night her father was killed. He never came home. The house was empty then, too. Clarice runs around the entire house searching, panicked, petrified. She finds no one. Family room? No. Kitchen? Nothing. She sprints to the basement, taking the stairs two at a time. Clarice loses her balance and tumbles down the final few stairs, but she barely notices as she whips her muddled head back and forth. Still lying on the ground, she looks around madly for her guardians. But still no one. Clarice continues to lie at the bottom of the steps stunned. Scared. Confused. For the second time in her life, she has no idea what to do. Where to go. What to think. She forces her bruised body to stand up continue her search. Halfway up the stairs she musters up enough courage to go search the abandoned barn.
She's never been out on the farm so late at night. It gives her an eerie feeling. But she can't turn back now. She walks cautiously on.
At the doors of the barn Clarice sits down and prays, prays that this is all just a dream and she will soon wake up. This is too much for her to handle. The screaming starts up again, this time louder. It is coming from inside.
She peers inside the barn, falls back, and starts to cry. Inside, the farmer is savagely slaughtering innocent sheep. It breaks her heart to see the angelic faces staring at her with pleading eyes, begging for help. Bloody are the lifeless bodies strewn across the floor. Bloody are the farmer's clothes and hands. Bloody are the thoughts in Clarice's mind. Bloody are the thoughts of her father. Clarice can hardly breathe. She's baffled at the sound the lambs make in their final moments. So human-like, so similar. She sits outside the barn doors for a long while rocking herself back and forth, holding her knees as close to her heaving chest as she can. She can't shake the sight from her mind. One. Two. Three. She counts them. Each one has their own unique cry. Each one speaking to her. She wonders how they feel. All these questions start spinning around in her head, but she can't bring herself to do anything about it. Not yet. She can stop herself from seeing, but she can't stop herself from hearing.
Clarice suddenly jumps up and runs around the back of the barn. She will try to save some of the sheep. At least one. If she can save just one that would be okay. Behind the barn are the rest of the sheep, all unaware of the horrors that will soon befall them, all awaiting their untimely deaths. She snatches the smallest one she can find, a lamb, and begins to run. Together, they run as far away as they can. She never even stops to think about the things she had left at that old farm house. Clarice just keeps running. She won't go back there either; not after what she has seen the farmer do.
Clarice can still hear the screaming for a long while. She loses track of time. But once they reach the highway, Clarice sits down, lamb in her lap, and starts to sob. She clutches the lamb so tight. She will never let him go. The screaming is still ringing in her ears.
While staring into the innocent, defenseless face of her baby lamb, everything around her starts to fill with fog. She looks hysterically around her as the fog encases the pair. Clarice kisses the nose of her lamb and tries to comfort him. "Everything's going to be okay, babe. You'll be alright, baby doll." She cries as her lamb begins to disintegrate in her arms. Her lamb is disappearing right before her eyes. She lurches forward, desperately trying to grab at the lamb, but it turns to dust as a shadow resembling the farmer carries the lamb away. Clarice howls, screaming for her baby back. It turns to wailing and eventually begging. But it is futile: her baby is gone and she is alone.
Clarice weeps for her lost lamb.
A strong man walks over to Clarice. He sits down next to her, encases her in his strong arms, and wipes the tears from her fragile face. She looks up to see her father's strong jaw, masked by his familiar five o'clock shadow. He whispers in her ear, just as he always did, "Everything's going to be okay, babe. You'll be alright, baby doll." She rests her red, swollen face on his muscular chest.
Clarice wakes up in her bunk drenched in sweat. Or tears. She isn't sure which.
Another night, same nightmare.
She wonders if there will ever be a silence of the lambs.