The one who's never and always alone

Screaming off the tops of mountains is definitely a priority. Other than that, just life as usual.

You and a couple other people I've talked to. I thought about it and then realized it wouldn't be very smart to lose my voice right after I'm able to speak again. And what's the usual?

Kellan watched her from afar, as he always had. She glided over the brush, barely making a sound-just like he would expect her to. He stepped forward silently, still invisible, hoping to get a better look at the expression on her face. By now she knew about him, and probably was very confused-but wasn’t she seeking him out now? Wouldn’t that be why she was at the woods? He stepped forward again, his magical shield of invisibility melting away as he purposefully stepped on a thick twig that had fallen. “Phoebe.”

A gust of wind flew by just as she heard her name, almost as if the whispering breeze was taunting her. Though, with squinted eyes, she caught sight of a tall figure half-hidden by the tall green trees, enough to tell her that he was the one who had said her name. Falling back a step, she stood with her mouth slightly parted as quick breaths slipped past her lips. "How-" she began, clearing her throat, "how do you know my name?"

Any big plans now that it's back? 

Mhhm, the sights, the fashion, the everything. Venice really gets me. It’s a good place to have some fun… But the Hollow is my kingdom and where I really belong. 

I kind of pictured you as a Paris type of girl. I agree though, Venice is wonderful. I've been once and it was love at first sight. 

Pleasure to meet you, Phoebe, I’m Sybil. Mythology and possibly another, yet to come to a clear conclusion. What about yourself?

You too. Oh, Mythology! I'm majoring in Anthropology- magic and folk religions. Pretty similar, huh? What year are you in? 

He smiled softly, humming to himself as he picked up the tattered notebook again. “Hmm.. Let’s see –” His fingers fell upon a page, with a small passage. “Okay –” Asher positioned himself, turning his body so that he could look at her as he read. “I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am. I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks. I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightening, but you hear the echoes." After he finished reading, he set the journal down again and remained quiet, eyeing her curiously.

She sat still and quiet, listening closely to his calm voice and the words spilling beautifully from his lips. There was something very settling- peaceful- about listening to someone read something of their own, something clearly so important to them. Of course, Phoebe didn't show her awe and appreciation. She didn't gawk or ask him to read more- even if she would have liked nothing more at the moment. Instead, she kept her face neutral, her body still. "You're good." Phoebe nodded, raising an eyebrow in approval. "How long have you been writing for?"

I do. May I inquire as to why you ask?

No real reason. I just knew you looked familiar. I'm Phoebe, by the way. What's your major?

My mom and dad took me on a little trip to Venice. It’s so lovely there, especially considering there wasn’t any sound missing. You called it weird, maybe you shouldn’t be living in Barton Hollow, if you can’t handle weird. I see it came back just in time for my arrival, though.

I'm guessing you had fun. Yeah, well, weirder than usual. Just when I think I've become immune to the strangeness Barton Hollow holds, something crazier happens. As if it arrived with you. Got some secrets you're hiding?

We do not. It like other things we have in life, like wind, plants, so on and so forth. They are apart of our regular every day to day that we forget that without it we would be loss. 

Good point. Hey, I don't mean to change the subject, but you go to BHU, right? 

Asher looked up, slowly shutting his journal. He could tell the girl seemed to be upset. Smiling softly, he shrugged, setting the journal down to mimic her movements and lean back. “I don’t exactly write about anything in particular. Depends on my mood I suppose. I could write dreams I had, stories, memories, poems, thoughts, quotes – just depends.”

She crossed her legs, absentmindedly picking at the grass beneath her palm. "I always thought about writing in a journal, but I never thought I'd be able to keep up with it." She looked up, her face lit up in a kind smile. "Anything you want to share?" 

Asher’s eyes were locked onto an old, beat up journal. His eyebrows furrowed together as he quickly wrote, pen grazing across the parchment. The wind whipped through his long dark hair as he sat upon a blanket in the middle of a clearing. He didn’t even notice someone approaching him until he felt the slight shift of the blanket underneath him. “Good afternoon.”

After paying a visit to the Hoodoo Voodoo, Phoebe found herself aimlessly wandering the town with no real direction. Her mood was one that she couldn't quite describe; she just felt... empty. Blowing out a sigh and running her fingers through her loose curls, she noticed a figure hunched over, scribbling down something in a book. Her steps lead her forward, out onto the grass until she reached the blanket and dark-haired man. "Good afternoon to you." She replied, forcing a smile. Sitting down in front of him, she leaned back on her elbows, looking up at the sun. "What are you writing about?" 

What a shame I had to miss it. I would have loved that, all the silence and no one to hear anything. Prime time entertainment, if you ask me.

You know, it was pretty nice for a couple days. And then it was just... I don't know, weird I guess. It's crazy how different it is when sound isn't present. But where were you when all of Barton Hollow was suffering the Silence? 

I do. I believe that the silence allowed for all of us to appreciate what we have, that we have this ability to say what is on our minds and be heard. There are many who do not have that luxury and are looked down upon for not having it. The silence, I believe, was meant to open our eyes. 

Maybe it was. I mean, it did kind of make me appreciate it more- sound. We don't really think much about it, it's just a constant for most of us. 

I wanted to see if the sound really was back, screaming seemed like a great way to test it.

I guess you weren't the only one who thought so. 

I hear people scream all the time. Sometimes my name, and sometimes in agony, I don’t know what’s so special about that. You must be new to it.

I think the ones I heard were in joy rather than agony, or, pleasure. With the silence being gone and all that. 

Nah, can’t stay in the house for too long - Lou and the boys at Mystic might miss me too much. Gotta eat somehow, right?

Ah right, you still got your music that needs you. Well, that is true. Unless, of course, you're the type that has enough frozen dinners to last you a lifetime.