Chapter 10: Vitriolic (Day 3) Edited

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You ran your little legs upstairs.

It was like your excitement was what truly tipped the glass over the edge. Different objects flew into your suitcase as your mind controlled their movements. Books, paper cranes, and masks were piled on top of each other as to show the symbolic stack of a hidden tragedy, just like fate, the freedom of love, and deceit. Maybe everything was just so twisted that you couldn't be any wiser. It would most definitely set you up for failure, blindly walking down a black path following a red string to attain the absence of good luck. But at the same time it sealed whatever story you had been writing and placed a scorpion on the cover.

But why were you in such a rush to stumble out the door? Did your house not really feel like home? Were you searching for a different ending? That, no one would ever truly know. The love story you were hoping for was falling more and more into place. The puppets on the sidelines could finally watch and marvel at how graceful you spun on the dance floor, either in confusion or love, and sipped from a glass half empty. It was truly a spectacular sight.

Exhausted, you laid down on your bed and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Your door opened instead, and you felt the sheets move as another being sat on the edge.

"Hey," he said. "You finished packing?"

"Yeah," you muttered. "Everything's put away now. Anything I'll need is in the bag on the floor."

Were you really that prepared?

The ceiling looked as if the sky was opening up and the moon was ready to shed light onto the scene. Truly beautiful, indeed. Little grains of incandescent salt represented tender stars falling into place as they fell into the chipped cup sitting on your nightstand. Jeff took the glass in his hands and stared at the slogan on the side. But you knew nothing of the chipped cup. No, you had no clue of how it got there or of how such an item was still ways away from the dump of lost memories. It spoke to you, but it had no words to say.

Jeff played with the cup in his hands and said, "I really hope this works." His eyes remained on the missing piece and his voice was stiff and still.

"I hope so too," you muttered. "But is there another reason why?"

He glanced at the floor in front of him and then at you. "Why we're about to travel the world together?"

"It can't be that you just want me to remember everything, can it? I mean, you don't seem like the type-"

"That just 'cause you don't know me yet. I swear, it has to make you remember something," he said, standing while his head hung by a thread. "At least the good times."

"There were bad times?" you asked.

That line was able to freeze his entire body and send chills up his spine. His face seemed to shake as he stared at the window leading to the woods behind your house where wolves and various beings waited for an answer. They were killing him with pressure, stomping their claws all over his ears. He had to say something.

"Don't you know that quiescence is the loudest noise you'll ever hear?"

And the room was even more silent on his command.

Yes, silence is bliss. And it is the most horrific sound one could imagine. The silence of the open sea is enough to make anyone go crazy and dive into the harrowing saltwater without a doubt of death or certainty at all. Fishermen can never find peace when they battle the waves trying to sink their ship under the shallow tar consuming the bottoms of their boat, adding mercury to their weekly catch. The world is covered in ocean, but the people try to consume it. They just don't understand that habits are habits, and they won't be able to last without them when faced with patience and outlast.

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