:| silences || cato || minie |:

I was the first one today. The first one to wander out of the room that I slept in and wander down the empty hallway to find myself seated at a quiet table. My long elegant fingers played with the lip of the mug in front of me, a small cloud of steam rising from the depths of the china mug. I smile down at the steam, my eyes watching as it climbed into the room, higher and higher until is disappeared into nothing but thin air- being eaten up by the more dominant molecules that surrounded it. It was fascinating- something that resembled life to an extent. If someone was weak, they would be like the steam, over taken by the sheer force of those who were much tougher, those who were strong and durable.

I smile to myself, my eye slowly losing focus on the steam as I brought the lip of the mug to my lips, tipping the sweet but bitter liquid into my mouth. The luke warm liquid slid down my throat and with a sigh of pleasure I pull the mug away and placed it gently on the table. My fingers gently brushing away a few stray crumbs that were scattered along the tables wooded surface. One of my fingers lingers on one of the bigger crumbs before sending it off into the wilderness. Silence filled me, and it made me feel at ease. I loved silence; I loved the way I could sit in silence and not feel the need to do anything, to say anything, to think anything. It was just peaceful, the way I could just let my thoughts wander but yet at the same time don’t pay any attention to those thoughts. I smile once again and fold my arms in front of me, my eyes studying the empty room around me.

This place that was usually buzzing with life was dead, so so quiet. I know it was early, and that upstairs I would hear the gentle snores of my family as they slept through life like a child in a coma. Sometimes I wished it was always like this, sometimes I just wished that this was my life- just peace and quiet during the day and my night time pleasures at night. But no, I had a family, a group of people that inhabited this place with their filthy habits of eating the rotting flesh of another human being, eating the internal organs of people, keeping them in places such as the fridge. It sickened me, but I couldn’t complain. Mother had brought them in, she has let them live here- then so must I.

Climbing to my feet I pick up the mug and carry it over to the sink where I turn on the tap allowing a flow of clear liquid to rain down into the depth of the cup, diluting the remaining liquid. Quickly I cleaned the remainder of the mug before I placed it on the counter with the rest of the mugs to air dry. Heading over to the fridge I take a quick peak in- but soon regret the choice when my eyes come in contact with the pink flesh of a stomach. Quickly I close the fridge as my stomach twists making me double over. “Fucking grots.” Couldn’t they think about the rest of us? “Might need to talk about getting another fridge,” I think out loud, stumbling back over to the empty kitchen table where I sit down, my hand cradling my upset stomach.

I fall into the wooden chair, my elbows finding a home on the table, my head falling into the palm of my hands-my eyes as cold as ice as I stare into the dark depths of my home.