ZERO

I was eight years old when I started hearing things. At first, it was just little things like thunder when the sky was clear or the sounds of waterfalls when my family was driving across Arizona. The tinkering of chains and the roar of splintering wood came next. The latter being much more startling, I tended to sometimes freak out in crowded places like the train station and at school. I didn't think I was crazy (I certainly didn't feel crazy,) I just heard things sometimes. I tried to ignore it, but all the unexplainable, unfiltered noise made it hard to become close to people, my classmates and family included.

While I was busy turning into a recluse, my parents got a divorce. They thought my antisocial behavior patterns caused by the trauma resulting from their split, so they took me in to see a shrink. He was a real nice guy, one whom I liked quite a bit, and he told Mom and Dad that I was the sanest person to walk through his door.

Then I started hearing voices.

I was standing in line at the grocery store the first time it happened, a basket full of carrots and cabbage under my arm. I was counting out change and planning dinner when all at once, from directly behind me, I heard a sudden, loud shout. I let out a cry and dropped my change and cabbage all over the floor. The middle-class housewives, their children and washed-up senior citizens all eyed me disapprovingly. I paid in an embarrassed rush, unnerved by the new development in my apparent craziness, and the cashier didn't bother to tell me to have a good day. Was I crazy? No, I didn't feel like I was insane; I just heard things sometimes.

After that, every once in a while, I would hear the shout again. I managed to stop crying out in surprise, but it still scared me senseless. My bone marrow seemed to turn into unhappy snowflakes and I was frozen on the spot. As the years passed, the voices didn't only scream: they laughed. Sometimes it was a roar, sometimes it was a chuckle, and sometimes still it was an uneasy, bile-producing cackle. Once, when I was nearly asleep, I heard them crying the choked, pitiful sobs of someone completely broken, completely down-and-out. It was then I realized that it wasn't voices, it was a voice. It was one person, one being, one thing calling out to me.

"Find me, Sally. Let me out... Won't you let me out already? Come here! Come on! Come find me! Let me out!"

Commentary:

The newest work from Skylar Alexander. Aren't you all excited? Long time readers, you know the drill. For the others, (most of you) I would absolutely adore it if you would review. I super dig reviews. XD Especially the ones all full to bursting with comments and critique, telling me what's on your mind and what you think is coming next, telling me what you like and what you don't. Be opinionated! I love it. As you read on, reviewing every chapter for individual criticism would be very, very helpful to me as a budding writer. I'm sure many of the people reading this are writers too, and can understand my request. If you could do this for me, I'd be super much obliged! Either way, I'm looking forward to starting another writing journey together with you all!