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I was yelling help on the top of my lungs to such a point that a gentle whisper was all that my voice could muster. No one was walking on my side of the street and when I ran to the other side to catch up with the people walking back and forth, they only walked away ahead of me and disappeared in the fog. I turn around to see other people on the side I was previously on and when I head back where I was, there they are again, behind me. I felt like they were just laughing at me in the distance, hidden in the fog but I never could find out. They were always to far away, hiding in the shadows, starring. A feeling started tingling from my head to my toes, I shivered the entire inch it traveled down my spine and a rush of cool air followed.
This place is silent, almost like there is nobody here. I heard a giggle. Childish laughter that sounded so joyful I could be fooled on where I was. I looked around in several directions hoping that I could figure out where the laughter was coming from but the thickness of the fog made everything so muddled. For a few seconds I could have sworn I heard children all around me, ready to strike for a kill or play some game of detrimental proportions. I saw movement in the corner of my right eye, I turned quickly to get a better glimpse of it but all I could see was a silhouette. Whatever it was, it wasn’t trying to hide from me because it was skipping along its path. I was almost sure that whatever it looked like was indefinitely a small child. I looked behind me to see the body in the alleyway all tangled up and bloody but there was nothing I could do. I wondered who the man was and even if he was the one that I was chasing previously, he wasn’t going anywhere, so I left him.
I followed whatever was in the fog, beginning where I first saw it. I ran to my right hoping that I would be able to catch another glimpse but I didn't. It was like I was just chasing shadows but now, I can only wonder if I really ever did see something in the distance, maybe I was just seeing things. It’s strange on how your mind plays tricks on you. There could be nothing in front of you but if you don’t pay attention to what you really are thinking, you get that feeling of seeing objects in the corners of your eyes. After walking several yards I couldn't find any traces of what I saw in the fog—I couldn't even hear any laughter. Eventually I came to the point to where the apartment complex that I lived in was approaching in the distance. After a few more steps I realized that it wasn't how I left it prior when I was chasing that man, who is evidently dead now.
What was previously a large glass door was now covered in old wooden boards and plywood, through all the cracks between the boards I could see inside; everything was a wreck. I was confused—nearly given—how could this have happened and where was I going to go? I tugged on a few boards that covered the doors but it was solid—I wasn't going to get through with just my hands though I still tried. I looked for something that at least looked loose but everything was tight like someone just put it up—which is what happened—but I couldn’t understand how. Though I was a little a ways and I couldn’t have seen anybody, you think I would be able to hear at least something but no sounds echoed through the streets.
Just then I heard a strange echo coming from inside the building. It wasn't a laugh as I have heard many times before but a moan of despair and fear. I looked towards where I first heard the noise came from but nothing appeared itself to me. The moans turned to crying, and then to anguish—it was the sound of a poor woman. Her sobbing turned very faint to the point of a whisper and then I could hear whispers but not from one person but two. The other voice sounded deep so I could only figure it was a man and I knew by now that the other was defiantly a woman's.
The mans voice talked most of the time—being in a very consoling, caring tone—while I heard the woman's crying in the background, from what it sounded like, the man was trying to help her to make through something that no one could have any control of, not even herself. The direction in which the sound was coming from became finer and from what I could make out, one of the voices was coming from Serenity. I could tell by how she spoke, though it is a hard thing to figure out but when you only remember one voice, that voice sticks to you for the rest of your life—like being deaf and then hearing your first sound.
Next up in Listening For That Sweet Tune:
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