Leaving Into SilenceMature

A Mysterious Short Story

"They came out on the night of the great storm. When the storm was over with everyone was gone. Vanished"


The dream spanned in his mind in hopes he’ll be not misunderstood ever again. His looks were not all that too well and handsome as the other adult like teens his age. He couldn’t bench more than 150 pounds; he wasn’t good at any sports because he tried once before and the whole school just made fun of him instead because of his efforts of even trying. They called him Dumb-ass, or most preferably they called him a loser. Some believed that he was an absolute loser because the way he acted around the ladies; as how’d he would act around the girls at his school was that he would just look at them and make an awkward silent noise and just not say a word and go on, carrying on with his daily ritual regular business, of sitting down making an ass of himself as the only thing he could do well was that to sit in-front of a computer screen and either pretend of working on something or write short stories and poems at school instead of asking girls out to prom. He was very intelligent for his knowledge on history but everything else like sometimes English he felt of himself just like somewhat dumb at.

The Bell tolled in the court yard of the old Church of the St. Peter’s on this dreary black miserable morning of Black 2010. He knew he had to do chores around the house, first lift his lazy rump off the bed, and so on. It was fun yesterday he had lost his job at the factory plant outside of town in Oakland, Indiana, which did seem much of a surprise after since that the times are hard and competition over seas of manufacturing assembling breaks for cars at a Chrysler factory that was one the lists of the companies to do list still in the middle of its re-structuring program re-ordered by the current administration trying to salvage what was left of them, in-which all along the current president had it coming anyways, ill experience equals stupidity. Employment was the least at his town, like the towns store owners only wanted somebody who was in there middle ages not in there early 20’s . He couldn’t get job either from no college education as his parents too were as poor like he was just trying to scrap on by below minimum wage of only $28,000 a year on three different jobs as his sister had to lie about her age to get on past the minimum age law that bars children to be hired below the age of thirteen, and the only available job still around in their area was a old refinery that has been closed since the late 70’s but now grew mushrooms instead. Now his sister suffers from respiratory problems as after the years the refinery closed the smog and the pollution in the air did give back the blue sky, when the refinery closed they sealed the place with barbed wire, electric fences, brick walls, and too steal walls, leaving the air inside to worsen.

He got of the bed; the alarm clock fell onto the floor and shattered into oddly shaped pieces, “Isn’t that nice, at least I still got a watch with batteries in use” he had murmured in the a some what casual voice of sleepiness of the lack of sleep from fear. What he feared is that he might have live off of food in the garbage bags in the alleys, he always shuttered of that thought. But the quote of the last few years has been that “You have to do what you can if you want to survive, as it’s dog eats cat, the dog eats the dog that who had just ate the cat, and Biggest dog (The wild dog, the coyote) Eats the dog that just ate the other dog that of whom ate the dog who ate the cat. It’s a circle all of life is a circle sun rise and sun down, from the moon rise and when the morning comes around just tough huh? Well tough luck M.R.!” The cereal he had yesterday only left him today a pile mostly crumbs, and the milk he had yesterday had expired a week ago and he had too throw it out because it had nauseated him making him sick enough to make him vomit in the nearest place the sink and cursed a few words and threw out the carton of milk out for the alleyway stray cats to drink. “I guess crumbs today then” and he ate the crumbs slowly to slaver the flavor of the cereal.

He had a problem with the people now a-days as he did keep things bottled up inside of him and didn’t take much of a willful appreciation on the youth currently with their beliefs of life, what the music they listened to that sounded like faggots and lesbians singing with technical beats. He like liked his music to be simply only to be rock and roll and some 80’s, 90’s not the junk the youth listen to but he was youthful yes, with dreams to go to collage now soon to be turning the age of 20. Oh woe the dreams he had once to make it a successful within just a year after graduation from high school in 2009 but again he knew that he had to forget about it. Forget becoming a well- known writer, a well- known historian, and well-known Politian that did actually do what they say they’ll do once after being elected into office. He wished to be now rich with no effort at all; the only way this was going to happen was he would have to either kill the town’s bank-teller or rob every house in town if only half of the town still have homes as half of the homes in town were burnt out homes, if those homes still had money inside well he would be fine with that too. But nothing like that would ever happen, plus why would he want to do that anyways, thou-shall not steal, thou shall not kill, if there was an after life still directing him to the stairway of haven he would want to stay the course and not leave from it. Or he would become lost into, making him forever in the leaving into the silence.

He dropped the bowl into the sink press the handle on the sink to wash the bowl from the left over washed up milk he had maybe spat up while drinking. He turned to grab his grab his jacket and opened the rickety door and slammed it shut but forgot his door was still unlock, that wouldn’t be good the house being robbed while away, which ha they wouldn’t find anything because he wasn't no more better than a homeless guy with his back onto the wall chewing on things such as used bubble gum or tin-foil. He walked the line of the dirty trashed street full of liquor bottles from broken bars, and capes of the follow locals of the once well-known priests and nuns lied tattered all in the street. Walked past the cemetery where most of the citizens now-a-days liked to sleep. The citizens were looking more nightmarish every day, their faces and skin on day six were becoming pale and dead looking than before on day five after the major chemical spill in the Lake Monroe area. As the story goes their was a new toxic waste plant built to create jobs for area, some of the local citizens questioned why is this toxic waste coming here it has no business to be created here. But the consul approved the wasted plant but had to promise to keep its business outside of town in the country side.

Then one day while building the plant one of the mains burst and the chemicals flowed into the water on a perfect late October afternoon full of a dozen families half-expecting nothing to happen until one of them drowned in the water, a high school swimmer of all people. Then another child was rising out of the water and blood dripped off him, of course instantly the boys parents screamed out utter horror, and so this intelligent senior from high school from Indianapolis touched his face with the palm of his hand, and saw the hand was covered in blood. The boy fainted into the water while his adopted parents fled for their lives. The rest came back to town somewhat scared of what ever just happened and feeling endless sympathies to those poor unfortunate souls. They became sick and went to the cemetery where they have been for many days morning, groaning, cursing out to god for the problems in the world, such as war to death.

He went to the bar and walked in. He seriously needed a drink; he didn’t care of what could happen anymore with the numerous hardships he has gone through out his whole life. First starting with an examiner that did some tests on him when he was ten the reason why was that the school believed he had a disability of learning, talking in a fashionable manner including socialization among other peers, brain maturity, and oveall functionalism. The results came back in a matter of four weeks and what they found out was, he was the most dumbest person he ever examined before as he only scored 80 on the IQ test, had none of the skills of a character such as being adult it would be impossible to see how he can change at all in only eight years. But eventually he proved them almost wrong eight years later. But still his IQ score was still low as it was only 87 which is an intelligence of a seven year old by average studies. That same year he fell in love with a girl she would of always make short corny poems of her, such as the way she moved on the dance floor at every ball the school had. He was her friend but he didn’t want to be only friends he wanted to know her more as in simple terms he wanted to ask her out.

The day he did ask he was turned down and the whole school made fun of him and in the yearbook he was nominated as the biggest failure at the school. It was meant to be funny, a simple joke but he didn’t perceive it as being anywhere towards being funny, but that was actually a let down, not a put down on him. It was actually a let down on himself as being human, which made him very depressed and saddened by the fact that he might have to accept the fact that he couldn't accept anyone into his life. All the women now-a-days he figured that were around was always looking for men who have the cash as the number one important thing to have relationship with the significant other, second being burly, third well this was something he wasn’t at all which was again, as he was kind of under like the influence or the ranks of Autism. Poor, poor soul he always perceived himself as what a poor, poor soul. “It’s been a while since I’ve token a nap” he said to himself, and so he did so on floor in the bar.

He woke up his head felt hazy, he tried to walk but only instead crawled on his legs they felt a little bit too weak to stand and walk firmly on the floor. He tried to look out of the window, it looked like morning again he thought to himself if it wasn’t well it might as well be right, because he was asleep which felt like an eternity to himself. He lifted himself with the door handle, grunted and groaned as he lifted down the door to walk outside. Everything seemed different this morning, eerily different. The cars were parked into place; and no one was out today skimping and scampering down the sidewalk as a very typical day. Well maybe everyone was watching a game. He didn’t watch sports at all so it was guess of why everyone is missing to him.

Well what shall I do today, he thought about it and figured, and maybe he could go dumpster diving since this is the life that he’ll have to fulfill very soon. Now since he was officially unemployed, really behind on his bills on the car he seldom pays, so too his house, he estimated that he might be lucky to keep all of his things for another few more months but time moves quick when ever your not watching it very wisely as you are suppose to anyways always. It may sneak up on you and eat you alive. Approached the dumpster and dove into it. Paper, cans, spoiled foods rubbed up against him, crackling, popping, and rustling, trying to find something worth picking up and walk over to the local scrap store where he could be paid. He found absolutely nothing but an old rusted out Spam tin can, shove it into his hand, and screamed ouch and through it to the ground, looked at his hands to see it was bleeding.

“Oh Shit!” He screamed holding his hand and climbed out of the dumpster and grabbed a towel out from the waste and tied it taught around his scared up hand. Then a sound caught his attention, it sounded like music. This was the first sound he heard all day, as so far today everything about today was quite a little bit too quite for very odd mysterious reasons that is to be unknown? Was this sound he was hearing of was something that had walked into his head for its own entertainment. Playing renditions of some Rock n-roll, or the Blues, most times the most played music in his head was In-A Gadda- Da- Vida. Didn’t know why it was played so much, maybe it was that he had lost his insanity long time ago, who knows why or even did care.

A whisper came from behind him it was sounding girlish. He flashed his head over his shoulder and saw there was nothing behind him. He looked up above him and saw nothing but the yellow sky above shining down on this black town full of depression all around. He started walking away from the dumpster and became compelled with a strong smell of baked cherry pies. Where is that coming from in this isolated morning of missing humans he had thought to himself, where is this smell coming from?

“I feel lonely, my god I do feel so lonely, I’m Mr. Lonely, that’s why I’m so, so blue that’s why they too call me Mr. Blue.” Then out from his thoughts feeling for loving and tender care he saw a house sitting all by its self, no neighbors they were replaced with Detroit styled corn fields instead. He hasn’t smelled something so wonderful ever before, he paced himself to keep himself from running, to prevent his self of losing all of his breath. The smells of its fragrance grasped around his nose pulled him closer and closer to the home surrounded by stocks of corn. Pie he figured out must have been either cherries, raspberries, or made from apples. Sweet smells to smell when after you have digging around in garbage disposals all morning or all day.

He jogged his way up to the door and asked himself if the nice person in the house would give any sampling or a whole piece of the pie if anything that could be just enough to make it a great day, overall what he has been doing so far today. There was no porch, he heard noises in the house, a faucet turning on, splashing of water and the water being shut off with a screeching rusty turn of the handle. Then heard some singing couldn’t tell if it was singing or not behind the walls and the doors of the house, but it sounded peaceful, pure from the heart, what a first in the this world full too many people causing too problems to other people ripping out each other throats just for the fun of it from over hearing somebody saying it is just fine to do so. The door swung open catching the lock chain attached to the door. The person hid behind a dirty old rugged cloth that hung from the door sides, and asked in the muffled voice, “is there something you want?” He thought for awhile a few other things that had of come into mind and it was to wish his childhood wasn’t such as a disaster, being not poor, unemployed, but came to get some pie at least. “Can I have some pie?” the person answered, “Ya, ya sure,” And walked away.

When the person came back, the person handed over the pie to him and shut the door. He walked away from the house, and ate the pie. The pie tasted better than the smell itself. He flavored the essence of cherries in the pie; this was a good way to end the day then fainted. The next day he woke up laying stretched out on bed sheets. This wasn’t his bed sheets; he didn’t have flowers over by his bed.

“Where I’m I?” he almost shouted, this was some how frightening to him of to think of who could of snatched him up in his home, off of his bed, in the middle of the night! How frightening it was to think he could have been back home too where his parents. His wretched parents, the least none hateful thing they would say would have been to say, “I told you so, you retard. Look at yourself; you are nothing but a dumb…” He heard a noise of some shuffling feet on the floor outside. A whisper told him to run but to stay in place just in case he wasn’t in the wrong that he didn’t want to be at. He stayed into place wondering what’s going to be happening. Is there anybody there? The door and something walked in through the door in the pitch dark darkness. “Hey” someone said from the darkness, “Are you ok?” He sat up covering his face prying his fingers open to look through the slits of his fingers. The door opened farther, all away to a thump as the door caught the hinges holding the door up. The figure walked over to him and seemed to be whispering something, what ever it was it was faint and hid underneath the covers not knowing what to expect next. The figure sat on the bed, then gotten up, mumbled some words, “Windows, must open the windows by removing the curtains to the side.” He stood still underneath the sheets and some shades of white and yellow came on in through the window to enlighten the room from its original shades of its doom and gloom, which it had once housed. “I see you” and the figure lifted the sheets away from his face. He screamed and then saw that was there something new here. He felt funny. He looked down to his legs and he saw he wasn’t himself anymore but now a little boy.

The End

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