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The walls vibrated with the immense power

  • The walls vibrated with the immense power of guitars strumming intensely in almost perfect unison. When the guitarist strung a chord, I yelled with every ounce of breath i had.
  • But it was no use. My voice could not be heard. I wondered how anyone at the venue could communicate. I decided to high-tail it out of there before I got permanent hearing damage.
  • Just as a parting gesture, I screamed back into the room, and slammed the door extra hard when I left. That would serve the noisy lot! Outside, the silence was refreshing at first.
  • As it always does, the silence proves too much for the uninitiated. Its welcoming aura soon creeps into suspicion, and gives way to a massive paranoia. The mute buzz of
  • that damn T.V. My brother bought begins again. Fortunately the not so silent silence distracts me from the buzzing. Everyone and I felt the probability of an ambush waiting
  • to happen anytime. The TV buzzing like that meant an ambush was upcoming anytime. "What should we DO?!" I asked my brother. "Let's put it on reruns of Buffy, that may help!" So we
  • grabbed remotes from the coffeetable, and furiously pressed buttons trying to bring up some on demand episo
  • des of "When Good Animals Go Bad". He really had an unhealthy desire to watch the rerun of the hippy getting gored by a cornered bull as she tried to channel its essence.
  • It wasn't a healthy hobby for a 4 year old boy, but it's the only thing that kept him on the couch, glued to the screen. So we watched that hippy get gored at least 50 times a day
  • and ate tomato soup for lunch and bit the heads off of animal crackers. Looking back, I wish I'd been more careful. I somehow feel partially responsible for...well, you know...

2 Comments

  1. PurpleProf Dec 05 2015 @ 00:42

    Stephen King might endorse this one.

  2. AshleeRawr Dec 05 2015 @ 00:45

    Yeah, that's one disturbing kid.

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