I've Been Quiet For So Long Novels & Stories

****** // “This is Still Her — Episode Six: Let Them Watch.” They say I’m too much. Too emotional. Too loud. Too public. But I’ve been quiet before. I was quiet when I lost my baby. I was quiet when he touched my waist in public and ignored me in bed. I was quiet when my writing was stolen and twisted. I was quiet when my body stopped trusting him — and I blamed myself. I was quiet to protect their peace. But silence is not protection. It’s a prison. And I’m done serving time for their comfort.

Another moment of silence went by, and Collins was staring at his feet. "Sorry, I was just..." Trisha muttered. Collins let out a low chuckle. "No, it’s fine. Trust me, I’ve noticed how quiet things have been lately." He gave her a slow, knowing look. "Too damn quiet." Trisha grinned. "Well, you know just as well as I do… I’m not getting any either. Not for a while now." Collins raised a brow. "That’s a shame. A woman like you should be getting fúcked every night."

The house is too quiet. I’m sitting in my usual leather chair, the TV light flickering across the walls, but I haven't heard a word of the news in ten minutes. My wife has been gone six hours, and already the air feels thin, like the walls are expanding. It’s my birthday, but the only thing I’m celebrating is the fact that I don’t have to cook. I lean my head back and close my eyes, trying to find that stable headspace I’ve lived in for the last five years.

I shut the laptop. The room felt too quiet. My roommate had gone home for the long weekend, so there was no music thumping, no random phone calls, none of that background hum of another person just... existing in the same space. I'd been alone in here before, but this time it was different, like the quiet had weight. Like something was actually listening. I grabbed my phone. Pulled up Gideon's contact. Set it back down.

“Last time you mentioned the insomnia had been getting worse. What do you think changed?” I shrugged. “Maybe I’m just tired of being tired.” He paused for a while, watching me in that steady way of his. I looked at the clock on the side table instead of his face. “You seem a little distracted,” he said. “I’m not.” “Okay.” he responded, then there was another pause before he continued. “Where would you like to start today?” I exhaled slowly. “I keep thinking about how quiet my apartment is. It’s been almost a year since everything ended with I and Mark, and the silence still feels obvious. I thought it would get easier as time passes.”

"I am." "I don't know. You seem…different, and it…" "It what?" She heaved another broken sigh, "Silence scares me. I don't know if you feel the same way, but whenever a person is quiet, I tend to think of a thousand things that may have gone wrong. Or if I did something to make them mad, if they hated me or liked me less." Ishtar smacked her lips, tilting her head to look at me. "So I just ask…if they're okay every time…just to hear them talk."

"She'd have a heart attack if she saw this." The thought made me smile for a second before it did the thing it always did lately, curdling into something heavier. I shut it down quickly and carried my bowl to the couch instead. I sat there eating in silence, the TV off, my phone face-down beside me, and let myself actually notice, for the first time in a while, how quiet my life had gotten. No friends I actually called anymore, not since half of them turned out to be the mastermind behind the whole Meridian mess. No family I let close, not really, not even my own mother, who I dodged more than I answered. No boyfriend, obviously.

But inside my chest, something that ha d been quiet for a very long time had just woken up. And this time, I was not sure I was ready.

If you're dead, just let me know. I snorted despite myself and typed back. Unfortunately alive. Damn. Thanks. You're welcome. For a second I almost smiled, but then the feeling disappeared again. Because the second the conversation ended, the silence returned. That was becoming a real problem. Everything felt quiet lately, not physically but emotionally, like someone had taken a huge piece out of my life and left an empty space behind. I hated how dramatic that sounded, but unfortunately it was true.

~ Cole ~ Since we got home, I realised I don’t like silence anymore. It used to be my thing. Silence meant control. Now it just gives my head too much space and reminds me of my time in the hospital bedridden and powerless. And my head lately?, It's not a place I enjoy being. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, hands on my knees, staring at nothing in particular while Life goes on. I rub a hand over my face slowly.