The Voiceless: December 2012

An attempt at writing a short story. I started writing it long ago, abandoned it, and then completed it recently. I am not personally satisfied by it, but then again, I am never satisfied by anything I do. Please excuse the over-cheesiness of this story.

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There once was a young woman who lived on top of a hill. She lived alone, with no one around for miles and miles, and she never made a sound. The hill was green with grass all over, and, on days when your sense of reality wasn’t particularly strong, you could see a castle over the hill, and a small cottage down below. The legend said that one cannot see the castle or the house if the young woman was on the hill. The legend also said that she was always on the hill, and so nobody went there, because they thought it was haunted.

Yet he was able to see her.

He was a young man, still in his twenties. Upon looking at him, one wouldn’t notice anything special. He was a very normal-looking fellow, but minute traces of misery could always be observed on his face… as if he were punishing himself for a sin that he was yet to commit.

On quiet evenings, he’d go for a walk outside. And, since he lived alone, all of his evenings were quiet. He was eternally silent, forever contemplating. On a cool summer night, he decided to take a walk through the night, and then sit down to watch the sun rise at the end of his walk. As a child, he had always wanted to walk towards the sun, and, perhaps, maybe even reach it someday. And so, as soon as the night drew its blanket over the world, he set out on his journey, with only his silence and humbleness to protect him. Although he couldn’t see anything, he felt the presence of many a soul that night.

He marched through the darkness, with the occasional cool breeze flying through his hair every now and then, refreshing him. A few hours later, the silence was broken by the sound of birds chirping, right along with sunrise. The sun was just peeping shyly over the horizon; rising slowly, as if it were lifting itself up with such a great effort as there ever was. Its crisp, golden rays were gently caressing the Earth’s surface, spreading the warmth and hope simultaneously, and giving rise to life.

By that time, our friend had drifted away from his small town and off every road known to man, and he found himself treading along in a beautiful green meadow. On that day, he didn’t care about the sun rising nor the darkness disappearing. He had spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a hill at one of the farther ends of the meadow, breaking the infinite horizon. Slowly, he approached that hill, interested in seeing what he would find there. If only he had known…

He saw her. For an indefinite moment of indescribable depth, they stared into each other’s eyes; lost in each other’s wonder. For a moment, they imagined the infinite possibilities they could become together. He walked towards her and sat down next to her, and they lied on their backs, staring at the open sky. They smiled at each other as they painted the endless skies. They became moons and clouds and flying things. They floated with their imaginations into each other.

Together, they built their kingdom out of light and sound. She was a princess, he was a prince. They were not related by blood, but the bond between their selves was something never before known to man… unparalleled. They built their kingdom above the hill and all around – out of light and sound. Their kingdom existed, but it wasn’t real, and so nobody could ever discover it or ruin it. They spent their days lying on the side of the hill, looking at the meadow from which he had come. With their heads touching, they continued expanding their kingdom and isolating themselves from the world. They sat there in silence, imagining what could be. They gave each other thoughts and smiles.

Not a single word was uttered between them. The holy silence was never broken. It was beautiful.

Then, one day, on an early morning, they decided to walk down the other side of the hill, towards the rising sun. They departed, holding hands.