Golden

by TakenHawkeye

A little more than a drabble. Father Mulcahy, years after the war, reflecting on silence. Will review all who review me.

They claim silence is golden, but he knows the truth, knows how terrifying the silence can be.

Years have passed, years spent in solitude, and still Father

But he's not a Father anymore, is he, no, he's silence fighting silence

Mulcahy wakes in the middle of the night, clutching his heart to make sure it still beats. He screams into the darkness, to prove he's still alive, prove the silence hasn't overtaken his every fiber of being.

He prays for the sound of his own voice, the sound of his own breathing, sound. He prays

But what's the use, for who listens to a broken man who can't listen back

to be alive.

With his eyes closed he can imagine what death is like. He can imagine the life and world that have passed his four senses by. And he yells, for all he can do is imagine, while being suffocated by the golden silence.