In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Do or Die.”
You have three hundred words to justify the existence of your favorite person, place, or thing. Failure to convince will result in it vanishing without a trace. Go!
Silence, I need to justify silence. At this very moment I am doomed to sit with the screeching, wrecking, horrifying scream that radiates through my being as the creature I have caged like a wild beast screams in my ears for release. He stands staring with his bulging eyes and his tear-stained cheeks, rumbling and choking his disdain at being forced to refrain from destruction. He wants out…and he will scream himself blue in the face if I don’t let him out; all I want is serene peace and quiet to write my 300 words due today and this is my punishment for stealing a few short minutes to type to a blank screen the thoughts blaring in my head. This is what I get for trying to keep my word and stick to my NYE resolution. Why not release the prisoner you might wonder; why not ask the likely question: you didn’t like that mug anyway. Or better yet; you don’t mind if he scales the table and sticks his finger in the toaster do you?
The silence I want to Justify is my peace of mind, my sanity, my saving grace. I can lock myself up in the bathroom for reprieve, or pretend to be asleep, or take a shower. But in retaliation for these things I will have a whole room to clean up, or a fight to break up (between the monster and the even louder monster that will be home in 30 short minutes.) I sacrifice so much of myself in raising them, and ensuring they stay alive and don’t end up in the oven, that I often forget what life was like before their beautiful endless chatter, and misjudge the silence I so badly need for much needed sleep instead. Give me silence.