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You hear it, sometimes.
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[[File:Quiet Slumber - Creepy Music Box-2|thumb|right|200px]]
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A piece of music that sticks in your head, not because it’s complex, or something you really love. It may even sound wrong, somehow. And yet, you can’t stop listening to it.
   
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Why?
   
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Something in this one piece of music, which you like, but don’t really love, keeps drawing you back. Even despite its wrong-ness, you can’t stop listening.
   
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There could be many reasons for this, but sometimes it’s because you’ve always heard the song. It was whispered to you in the womb, from the moment you were born it has played in your ears, always with you. Softly, so softly that you never heard. Or when you did, you didn’t recognize what it was.
   
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Silence. The silence that plays when nothing else is going on, when the world is still.
   
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When there is nothing.
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So, why does it stick so hard in your mind?
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==<span style="font-style: normal; ">Silence</span>==
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">I was always a quiet child.</span>
 
   
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Because, you know it’s important. And after you listen to it enough in a form you can hear, you begin to notice it in other parts of your life. A snatch here or there, gone before you can be sure. But, the sound of silence always reaches you before something happens. Even if for only a moment, it reaches you.
<span style="font-style: normal; ">I never liked interacting with the other children so I always sat in a dark space. The children laughed at me but I didn't care, I just kept reading (which is my favourite passtime). I kept hidden in the shadows through elementry, highschool, collage, until I got a masters degree in journalisim. Now I am working for a new boss in a new area pretty far away so I ended up selling my apartment and moved in a new house. I was never curious of the history behind the house, what occured in it, what secrets it held, I honestly was happy that it had a roof and heating installed. As I finished unboxing on the first day, I went up to the attic (which was so large I decided it would  serve as my bedroom) and look throuh some of the things left behind by the prvious owner, a man who died in his late 80s, mostly just dusty old books. Flipping through some of them, I came across one that was incredibly strange that stood out among the rest. The outside was made of old leather with the word "Silence" written on it, but inside there were just empty pages, lines with no words on them except for the back of the book which had two words written in the middle.</span>
 
   
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Some people are able to recognize their own silence from birth. It alerts them to something bad happening. Most never find their sound. They are forever unknowing of what their silence sounds like. A handful find their song, and recognize it for what it is to them. They listen constantly, until it’s always with them. From then on, silence plays for them before misfortune or evil enters their life.
<span style="font-style: normal; ">Wolę ciszę</span>
 
   
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But, as with all things, there is a price.
<span style="font-style: normal; ">Being partially drunk I read it out aloud, and passed out on the bed not knowing what had just happened.</span>
 
   
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Other songs are playing in the world. And by listening to your own so much, you start to hear others.
   
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Family first. Silence plays about them, very quick snatches in the beginning. But as you listen, they begin to build, stronger each time you hear.
   
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Friends are next, then outward, more songs, more noise, until you hear the silence of the world. Some of the other songs may even be the same as yours. And you can’t do anything to help, to warn of the song of silence playing about them.
<span style="font-style: normal; ">For the past couple of days after that nothing had really changed. This one new girl in the office who came in a day after me is being really nice to me and flirting but I could care less. This all changed one night when I was alone in my attic reading a book and I heard a creek in the floorboards and when I turned  my heart lept in fright. A man in a completly black robe and dress shoes stood silently in the middle of the room. There wasn't a sign of hair, as I could not see any part of his head or body, just the black shoes adn a white mask with black hollow eye sockets and a lock over where the mouth should be. </span>
 
   
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Of the silence that might descend on them soon.
<span style="font-style: normal; ">"Who are you" I asked scared to death."How did you get in my house"</span>
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">as I said that he vanished before my eyes.</span>
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">After a period of two years the thing came back several times during the night so I wrote about it.</span>
 
 
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">       Last night it visited me for the 33rd time in counting. At first whenever I tried to talk to it it would disapear when I spoke and leave for that night. Perhaps he or she or it only stays when there's silence I thought. I tested that theory and I was right! The first time I didn't talk to it I just stayed in my beed and read when it appeared and to my suprise, it pulled out a book of it's ow written out in another language (it wears black goves, still no sign of other clothes), grabbed a nearby chair and read along beside me. We didn't say anything the entire night and when I woke up in the morning, it was gone. We've done this for many nights and sometimes, we just stare out the attic window into the  pitch black darkness of the night. For some strange reason I've had fun. I enjoy it's company. I'm wondering how long this will go on now as I really don't want it too go. The strange thing is that whenever the creature is nearby it seems to be almost sapping my energy. Another thing i've noticed is that I've started to try to open up to people more, why am I suddenly changing. I've looked all this up on the internet and what I found was horrifying, one video shows the cloaked figure doing arious actions which kill other, choking, stabbing, and most commonly snapping necks. It seems that out of all the people, me and possibly others from the past, have befriended it. (end of journal entry)</span>
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; "> He died 66 years after he opened the book and spoke those words.</span>
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">He got married, had kids, and moved up suffienciently in the ecomany, so in other words, he died happy.</span>
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">Many friends, co-workers, and family members came to his funeral because of what a great person he was since people said he opened up more to them. It was very foggy that cold winters day. One of the mourners (the deseasesd's younger son,age 25) noticed one particular man at the funeral. He wore a black cloak that enveloped him with black dress shoes as he always did, and his face was covered by a strange mask. The young man went over to him after the burial and asked how he knew his father; but got no response. The man backed up suddenly, as the cloaked figure started to cry bloody tears from empty black sockets. It got up, walked away and as it looked back</span>
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">It spoke the only sentence it ever will</span>
 
 
 
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">Nigdy nie lubiłem załzawione pożegnania, ale żegnaj przyjacielu.</span>
 
 
 
 
<span style="font-style: normal; ">And walked away into the fog and disappeared as if it was never there.</span>
 
 
[[Category:Reality]]
 
[[Category:Reality]]
[[Category:OC]]
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[[Category:Videos]]
[[Category:US]]
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[[Category:Music]]
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[[Category:Theory]]

Latest revision as of 09:22, 31 August 2015

You hear it, sometimes.

Quiet_Slumber_-_Creepy_Music_Box-2

Quiet Slumber - Creepy Music Box-2

A piece of music that sticks in your head, not because it’s complex, or something you really love. It may even sound wrong, somehow. And yet, you can’t stop listening to it.

Why?

Something in this one piece of music, which you like, but don’t really love, keeps drawing you back. Even despite its wrong-ness, you can’t stop listening.

There could be many reasons for this, but sometimes it’s because you’ve always heard the song. It was whispered to you in the womb, from the moment you were born it has played in your ears, always with you. Softly, so softly that you never heard. Or when you did, you didn’t recognize what it was.

Silence. The silence that plays when nothing else is going on, when the world is still.

When there is nothing.

So, why does it stick so hard in your mind?

Because, you know it’s important. And after you listen to it enough in a form you can hear, you begin to notice it in other parts of your life. A snatch here or there, gone before you can be sure. But, the sound of silence always reaches you before something happens. Even if for only a moment, it reaches you.

Some people are able to recognize their own silence from birth. It alerts them to something bad happening. Most never find their sound. They are forever unknowing of what their silence sounds like. A handful find their song, and recognize it for what it is to them. They listen constantly, until it’s always with them. From then on, silence plays for them before misfortune or evil enters their life.

But, as with all things, there is a price.

Other songs are playing in the world. And by listening to your own so much, you start to hear others.

Family first. Silence plays about them, very quick snatches in the beginning. But as you listen, they begin to build, stronger each time you hear.

Friends are next, then outward, more songs, more noise, until you hear the silence of the world. Some of the other songs may even be the same as yours. And you can’t do anything to help, to warn of the song of silence playing about them.

Of the silence that might descend on them soon.