The noise was growing louder and louder. It had been, since early in the cold morning. She did not know where it came from, it was just there. At first, she had logically come to the conclusion that it was coming from the new apartment she'd moved into. The porcelain walls had seemed sturdy and strong to her, it sounded like a ticking.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Like a reckless clock, the endless seranade ebbed away at her skin. It irked her but she was strong and so she grit her teeth and continued with her life.
The ticking eventually dissolved away, but left her less that a second to rejoice before giving way to the murmers. They were like hushed secrets, rumours, whispered among a hoard of bystanders. Incoherent, yet deadly. Waiting to strike.
It drove her up a wall. Soon, she was banging her clenched fists at the walls, begging her neighbours to stop. It was them, it had to be them. Whispering behind her back, laughing at her. They didn't understand. She was normal too.
As a beehive grows louder, so did the murmers. They grew into muted words - still barely comprehendible, spare a few words. They were talking about her, she knew, she'd heard the ‘she’s and the ‘her’s.
And the ‘look’s.
The snickers and smirks became clear by lunch. She didn't have lunch. They were watching, they'd laugh. It didn't matter how hungry she was - she was busy anyways, she had to find a way to shut them up. She needed to escape. This house was haunted.
The icy wind slapped her hard as she walked out of the building. It was dark. When had it gotten dark? It was supposed to be lunch time.
She had thought she would get an escape outside but they followed her like a parasite. A swarm of bees, they whispered louder in her ears as she walked down the inky street. Pacing, at the verge of breaking into a frenzied run. Panic swelled higher up her chest her short, visible in the night fog puffs of breath. She rushed down the pavement coated in a thick eerie silence. But it wasn't a silence to her. No, she heard words. They were properly formed, audible now. They were getting increasingly louder. They didn't seem to want to stop.
They screamed the devil's words in her ears. They yelled demonic ideas and instructions in her head.
She avoided people on her way back home. Perhaps they wouldn't whisper again in her safe haven. She didn't want to follow their orders. She didnt want to hurt the baby in a stroller as she walked past it. She'd held down her own hand and walked past it. She didn't want to throttle the meowing street kitten. It was the voices. They were controlling her. Forcing her.
The voices didn't stop at night.
They didn't stop the next day.
Or the next.
Were those days? They felt like days but the noon winds had turned colder. She felt every gale, the voices wouldn't let her close the windows. Her own limbs, now gaunt and devoid of any strength, refused her own bidding. They only heard the voices now.
The voices never stopped. They used her body like a hollow puppet but she wanted control.
She wanted it more than anything she'd ever wanted.
So she stood at the edge of the bridge. The sapphire sheet of ice was thin under her. She had wanted to touch it when it was thicker last year. She'd seen a lot of families out skating on it. She would get to touch it at last. How lovely.
With a smile decorating her face - at last - she stepped forwards.
And then, there was silence.
