[sunday reveries] victor hugo quote
"There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees."
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He’s alone, something he doesn’t know how to be.
The silence is deafening, soul-crushing, and he can’t make it stop. He gravitates towards crowds, the busy streets and the endless mass of humanity that converges in shopping malls and city parks. All his energy goes into finding a way to break past the wall that now exists between him and the rest of the world, blocking out the voices that have always been his constant companion.
It’s just too damn quiet.
“Carbone.”
He wants to answer. He can’t. He’s afraid of the sound of his own voice, hates the sound of his mother’s for the first time. It’s so shallow and one-dimensional. He doesn’t know if she’s worried or scared, if she’s concerned for his welfare or just fussing as a mother would.
I can’t do this. Mama, I can’t do this.
The couch beside him shifts. He’s still staring at the floor. He knows what his mother sees, knows that Tommy called her because he’s not talking to anyone. He comes and goes and he says nothing because he can’t bear the tinny, distant sounds of human speech without the rich color of thought to give spoken words their meaning.
Her fingers are warm in his hair. He feels no connection to them.
//Moro mou, my sweet baby boy…//
Her mind speaks to him the way he speaks to mortals, and as alien as it feels he welcomes it. It’s warm and alive with the flavor of Mom, that silver bell sound and intangible flavor of family blood and power that makes him feel safe.
He broke then, falling forward into arms that caught him, slim and frail but strong enough to hold him as the sobs came. They sounded awful, empty, and his pain was too deep. Too deep. Only she knew, only she understood where others asked so often, those outside, how he dealt with the insanity of his power. None of them knew, none had a clue that maybe he was born knowing.
They never imagined that someone could miss the voices, be confused and isolated by the lack of that constant, quiet chatter in the back of his head. The voices were a friend, a welcome companion that let him feel connected no matter how much or how often he was on his own.
Without them, he’s alone…and it’s something he doesn’t know how to be.
Muse: Carbone Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 402
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He’s alone, something he doesn’t know how to be.
The silence is deafening, soul-crushing, and he can’t make it stop. He gravitates towards crowds, the busy streets and the endless mass of humanity that converges in shopping malls and city parks. All his energy goes into finding a way to break past the wall that now exists between him and the rest of the world, blocking out the voices that have always been his constant companion.
It’s just too damn quiet.
“Carbone.”
He wants to answer. He can’t. He’s afraid of the sound of his own voice, hates the sound of his mother’s for the first time. It’s so shallow and one-dimensional. He doesn’t know if she’s worried or scared, if she’s concerned for his welfare or just fussing as a mother would.
I can’t do this. Mama, I can’t do this.
The couch beside him shifts. He’s still staring at the floor. He knows what his mother sees, knows that Tommy called her because he’s not talking to anyone. He comes and goes and he says nothing because he can’t bear the tinny, distant sounds of human speech without the rich color of thought to give spoken words their meaning.
Her fingers are warm in his hair. He feels no connection to them.
//Moro mou, my sweet baby boy…//
Her mind speaks to him the way he speaks to mortals, and as alien as it feels he welcomes it. It’s warm and alive with the flavor of Mom, that silver bell sound and intangible flavor of family blood and power that makes him feel safe.
He broke then, falling forward into arms that caught him, slim and frail but strong enough to hold him as the sobs came. They sounded awful, empty, and his pain was too deep. Too deep. Only she knew, only she understood where others asked so often, those outside, how he dealt with the insanity of his power. None of them knew, none had a clue that maybe he was born knowing.
They never imagined that someone could miss the voices, be confused and isolated by the lack of that constant, quiet chatter in the back of his head. The voices were a friend, a welcome companion that let him feel connected no matter how much or how often he was on his own.
Without them, he’s alone…and it’s something he doesn’t know how to be.
Muse: Carbone Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 402