She could only remember the cries. Not silent and far away in the distance but close to the ear and loud. It screamed inside her head every night when sleep started to come. Waking up with a constant sound buzzing through her brains. It made her nights uneasy and her days drowsy.
At the age of fifteen she started to remember what it was like being a little girl. Sitting on the lawn, watching all the children run by and having fun. Smiling and chasing each other. From the big tree right in front of her house to the shed of the neighbours at the end of the block. Girls in pink dresses with ribbons and boys with black trousers and hats. She watched them closely as she held her doll real tight. Playing tag and having the nicest time of their lives. Until the end of the day when all of their mothers came outside to call for their loved ones. No tears, no complaints, no sadness, just clear and honest obedience. Strolling towards their mothers who just finished making diner right before their fathers came home. She just sat there, watching.
When she was ten she first started to walk to the gate of their property. Taking it very easy, step by step, trying to touch the green fence with only one finger. At the end of the week she was finally able to touch it, gently. It kind of scared her to not just sit there and watch the children run by. But none the less, she tried and tried again to touch the fence. First with one finger, then two, then three. After one month she walked up to the fence and stood there for about three hours. What will life be like on the other side of the fence? Will it be just as safe as inside? Will one of the mothers come for me at the end of the afternoon? Will one of the fathers come and kiss me right after he steps out of his car?
At the age of twelve the little girl pushed down the handle of the fence for the very first time in her life. A little insecure she pushed down the handle and pulled the door towards herself. It jammed. She tried to pull it a bit harder but couldn’t move it. What stops me from entering the world? she thought to herself. Letting go of the handle she turned around and took a few steps back to the house. Behind the curtains she could see her mother standing staring back at her. Her mother looked tired. Black lines around her eyes, skinny cheekbones and hair looking dried and dead. She tried to smile to the little girl. She failed.
She could only remember the cries. Not silent and far away in the distance but close to the ear and loud. Banging hard to her head and chasing sleep away. Could she ever get as tired as her mother? What was it that kept her from sleeping? Was it life itself? Was it her thoughts?
At the age of fourteen she remembered another thing. It was dark and damp. There was water on the floor and her naked feet were wet. She couldn’t see or hear anything. Touching the walls around her made her feel even more scared than she already was. Pain started creeping up from the her toes to her pelvis. It felt so incredibly cold. Almost just as cold as she had felt when she lie awake at night hearing only the cries. This had been the first time in her life when she started to wonder who’s cries it had been. Never before had she questioned herself about the cries. It had to be her mother. It just had to be! But what was she crying about?
When she was eighteen and sitting on the lawn the neighbours children ran by again. Not yelling and screaming and laughing as she remembered. Silent. Waving their hands above their heads and chasing each other. In total silence. Not a word was said not a sound was made. Where were the sounds? she thought to herself. The mothers called for their children. They started running towards them. But how could they have heard the mothers calls? She couldn’t. She could only see mouths opening wide. But the children immediately started running home. No sound of shoes on the pavement, no sound of the cars when their fathers came home. No sounds at all. Has there ever been any sound? she wondered. Then it struck her. There has never been any sound! Then where were the cries coming from all those years? Who had been crying in my ears? she thought. Then she turned around. Behind the curtains she could see her mother standing staring back at her. Silent.
