I heard it.

I heard it1

I know I did. She didn’t, but I did.2

I don’t know why I heard it, but I did. At least I think I heard it. In that room I heard something. I don’t know what it was, but it’s what they’re all talking about. I just know it is. She doesn’t though.3

Maybe she did hear it and maybe she’s just too scared to say. Or maybe she didn’t and I am scaring myself into hearing it. It could have been them, playing a trick on me. If it was that sound, that noise, then I know where it was; where it is. She doesn’t though.4

But I left it, left it in peace. They say only people who here it get taken. Like a signal telling you to run. Everyone knows the safest place is somewhere you feel, somewhere no-one else knows.  I’ve seen all the signs; they’ve got them to come. I didn’t hear it where I expected it. I thought it would be in a dark, small room, but it wasn’t. It was out in the open, ready to chase its ‘chosen one.’ But I never heard it again. That noise, that sound. I know I’ll hear it again. She won’t though.5

The truth is I’m scared. Not just a bit scared, very scared. Why me? I’ve not done anything wrong. I suppose I’ve always been different, that’s why I was bullied. I’m different- that’s what is wrong. I know that now. She doesn’t though.6

So I ran. Well I’m running away from the noise, being different, being me and trying to fit in finally. They won’t be gone until the morning, but eventually they’ll realise I’ve gone. Even then they won’t do anything- I’m a nobody. I won’t stop running until I get there; she’ll look after me. Everyone will forget me. I’ll be a ghost in their memories. Not in hers, though.7

Wait, I can hear someone, something coming, in the dark. It was probably just me scaring myself again. I used to do that a lot, when they first went. I got scared easily just by doing something wrong, to me, to their memory, to her. I have to keep moving, going from a noise, the noise. That really does sound stupid when I say it to myself. I wish they didn’t die and leave me to look after her. I wasn’t ready and I’m still not, I suppose that’s also why I ran. Not just from the noise but from her and from me. Well, from someone I was made into. I want to renew my identity, to make her proud, show them I’m worth something, they all thought that. She didn’t though. 8

I’ll miss her; maybe one day I’ll see her again, when I get there; if I get there. I’ve going for a while and it’s nearly dawn. They’ll know I’ve gone now. I keep seeing it, hearing it, in that room, that place. I’ll never forget it, I know I won’t. The day I ran, ran from them. I wonder if she’ll miss mw. What if she comes looking for me? She’ll hurt herself or get lost and scared. She hates being alone. That’s why I heard it; heard the noise. She was lonely and scared so I sat with her listening to nothing, until it came. Then I heard something. She didn’t though.9

It’s getting lighter; I’ll be able to run further, I may even get there later this morning. If I do I’ll tell them to move her, save her. I thought she wouldn’t, couldn’t come. She’ll hate me now for going, for leaving her. Maybe she won’t.10

“Cathy, Cathy. Is that you?” Someone is calling me. I know that voice, I’ve heard it before. “Hello, are you there?” It’s the voice.
“Who is it?” I ask suspiciously.
“It’s me, Lottie.” The voice is her, the person I came to see. “Thank goodness- I was beginning to worry about you!” Lottie gives me a very elongated speech on responsibility and the dangers of the great outdoors. “Are you hungry?” Lottie asks, finally.
“Starving!” I’m almost ecstatic she asked. I haven’t eaten in a day! The house Lottie lives in isn’t exactly big, but it’s somewhere to stay. She’s my older cousin by four years, but I wish she was my sister. Then I wouldn’t be in charge of Sally and none of this would have happened. I think Lottie wants to be my sister too. Sally doesn’t though. 11

We’ve finally reached the house and Lottie’s attempting to unlock the door. It is apparently a ‘stubborn thing,’ but in ruder words. Something isn’t right- the doors unlocked but Lottie is not going in. It’s followed me, the noise. I can feel it. I’m just scaring myself. Or am I? Lottie still hasn’t stopped staring and I don’t know what it is. If it is the noise I’m gone, I know that. She doesn’t though.12

Lottie’s just staring at it, her front room, destroyed. All her belongings are gone, the police are coming. They’re going to ask questions about the house, Lottie, me.
“Where do you come from?” A stern looking policeman asks me.
“London.” I answer simply.
“Where about is London?” The policeman is getting annoyed.
“East London.” I answer, but what’s the point they already know I’ve gone now; they’ve asked too many questions and won’t stop asking. The know everything: the noise, how I ran, them and her. The noise is still here following me. The police say I’m imagining things, but I don’t think I am. They say my mind is playing tricks on me because of my past. I doubt that but they are still calling a psychologist to check I’m alright. I have to go get out of her, maybe it’s best if I die- right here, right now. The psychologist is here now and he’s asking too many questions too, they’re taking me away, to a mental home. I’ll never see her again or anyone if I die now. I’ll be with them at least.13

She’s here- Sally. If she leaves I won’t survive. I’ll go mad, maybe I’m already mad. I don’t know but the noise is still here, I can sense it.14

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