*Syllables*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
#4 in my collection of short stories

Submitted: July 31, 2013

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Submitted: July 31, 2013

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The two fatal syllables leap into my mind. How they made it past my fortified wall I’ll never know, but now here they are, holding a dagger just millimetres from my brain. The flawless shimmer of its sharp point creates a dull ache that magnifies with every passing second. Every ounce of energy I must use to keep my mind silent. An escaping thought could be my downfall. My mind’s eye studies the dreaded syllables, their source of meaning long lost but painfully remembered. I must filter my thoughts, distinguish fact from feeling. Never show emotion to the one wielding the dagger. The one those syllables once described used to stab me. He knew too much. I have learned from my mistakes. My mind’s shield is threatening to slip. Memories decades old begin to flood back, an unstoppable tide of pictures and videos escaping from my brain’s archive. A flash of green here, a lock of brown hair there. The silky smooth voice of a child, innocent before he was broken. Before I was broken. The syllables lean in for the kill, invisible eyes glittering greedily. But they won’t get me this time. I snap my shield back up to the sound of disappointed groaning. I wait in uneasy silence. Safety is only ever temporary. My killers wait in anticipation of my inevitable death. They know the last two syllables my mind’s ear will ever hear. Clay-ton.


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