Endless

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

Then, came.. nothing.

And nothing continued.

No one dared do anything.

No one left their homes.

No trains ran. No buses ran.

There was a complete shutdown.

You know, in the world that was before, whenever a moment of silence was observed to commemorate or show a mark of due respect in light of a tragedy?

It was like that, but worldwide, regardless of time zones.

As if we were all stunned into silent submission. I had once tried to speak, as I am sure many others had. But the deathly hollow silence snuffled out that idea.

Instead, I looked out the window to a world that was once so busy, so noisy with life, death and everything between, brought to an unnerving standstill.

It’s funny when I think about it. So many people in the world that was before would complain about how noisy and busy the world had become.

But now we have what those wanted, though the deafening quietude is not really all it was touted to be.

Family meal times lack joy, laughter, arguments, disagreements and shouting. We still eat, though.

We get care packages every day on our doorsteps. I would imagine it is the same throughout the world. No one ever dares question these strange care packages, at least not out loud.

We seemed to get enough for each day, and any remaining food went rancid and disintegrated.

As I watch dawn bring another day of nothing, I think we are on Day 30. Thirty days of this has been hellish enough, though. You’d think we would have managed for longer before the cracks started to appear, but no.

Some people have even tried to end it all. I know this because I saw many of our neighbour’s attempts. For example, Mr Johnson, at number 33 on our street, tried to hang himself. No more than a few seconds after he kicked his stool from under his feet in his living room, where anyone who happened to be looking in the direction of his house would have seen, he had vanished only to reappear and dropped unceremoniously onto his front lawn. Free of noose. Silently choking breath back into his lungs. But alive.

It was shocking, to say the very least. But then it happened again and again for the remainder of those first couple of weeks and into the second of our ongoing “situation”. People tried a variety of different ways to kill themselves.

All attempts failed.

It was like a time lock or something worse.

I even tried to end it all by taking a gun to my face and blasting a crater through my skull.

Despite the initial blood, flesh, bone, sinew and brain matter splatter that occurred after the blast, moments later, I woke up with nothing worse than a headache.

I cut my wife’s legs off.

That was an intense experience.

It took quite a lot of time and effort, even with her completely naked. The saw I used was newly sharpened. She sat there in silent agony, gripping at her chest and arms to manage the excruciating pain.

Once, I had removed her legs, and there was a bloody mess at the amputation site; there was a flash of light, and nothing had changed.

On Day 30, the world is adjusting to the new normal.

Silence still reigns, and the world doesn’t seem too much like it did just a month ago. There have been no wars, health crises, food shortages, or hunger issues. Economic issues were solved almost overnight.

No noise.

No end.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Delayed, but still posting nonetheless. This is a response to Liam Storm's 1984 - An Unofficial Challenge. My original entry that doubled as an Unreliable Challenge entry was too long, so this one, although, late, meets the word count requirement.

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