A screaming comes across the sky. The sheer terror in that scream sinks into my bones and terrifies me to perform some action that will end the shriek, yet I stand still and listen. The screaming comes again, across the city’s night-shaded sky and through my open window. It’s of a woman, a child, a man so afraid that all societal views of deep manly voices falls away into a shrill.1
I can’t do anything about it. Every night, that same screaming pierces my bedroom walls and spears my eardrums; every night my mama tells me, “Hush, Stephanie, that’s just how the city sounds. You’ll get used to it.”2
But something is different about this screaming. It’s so full of fear that I feel sick listening to it; it’s so void of hope that it makes me want to cry. I tell my mama this and she says, “Stephanie, you’re letting your imagination get to you. That’s just how the city sounds at night. You’ll get used to it.”3
4
I’ve been living in the city now for 18 years, living and enduring. Now I have my own apartment, my own family, my own chunk of the city. In my tiny living room, I sit in my chair, relaxing.5
A soft noise can be heard behind me and I turn around to see Madeline, my little girl, crying and holding her favorite teddy bear. “Honey,” I rush to her, “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”6
She cowers her face into her bear, mumbling, “Mommy, there’s a bad noise outside. It’s so sad and scary that it made me cry.”7
“Oh, Maddy, let’s go into your room and tell me when you hear the noise, OK?”8
“OK, Mommy, but I’m still scared.”9
We walk into the back bedroom, my fingers gently holding her tiny hand. The first thing I notice is the open window, curtains fluttering in the wind. Maddy hides behind me, crying harder than she had before.10
“Mommy, I can hear it again. The screaming’s even louder now.”11
A ghostly memory floats in my mind as I ask, “Honey, what screaming? You didn’t say anything about screaming before.”12
I hurry to the window, shutting it firmly as I strain to hear this screaming, this noise that was terrifying my daughter. However, nothing can be heard and I sigh impatiently.13
“Madeline, I can’t hear anything. It was probably just a bad dream.”14
“But, Mommy-“15
“Maddy, go to bed.”16
She pouts and bows her head, shuffling to her bed and hopping under the blankets. I walk over and lean down, tucking her blankets gently and laying a kiss upon her forehead.
“Now, honey, do you promise to go to sleep?”17
“Yes, Mommy. But what if I hear more scary screaming outside?”18
“You mean noises from the city? Don’t worry, honey, that’s just how the city sounds. You’ll get used to it.”19
With another kiss, I wish my daughter good-night and leave her room. I shut the door behind me, oblivious.20
A contest entry
- October New Member Contest by SW Greeters.
350 points, ended November 8, 2008, 11 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - For Serious About Reviews Group Only by Andy Stephenson.
350 points, ended November 5, 2008, 16 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Qualifying Round -The Best Writer Ever!!!! by MoonRoseWolf.
300 points, ended November 28, 2008, 62 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Vaguely creepy, actually. As someone who grew up in a small town in the woods, I can say that the sounds of the city will always keep me awake. They are enough to scare children! What I find interesting is how the mother has forgotten her own experiences with the screaming noises as she gets older. It has a very Peter Pan feeling to it.
Thanks for entering our contest, and I hope you're enjoying Storywrite! 
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Spooky how we forgot what we went through in childhoold when we have children of our own.
Very good story. Thanks for entering and good luck
Brooke
greeter -
Hi
The key it would seem is turning a deaf ear to the sounds of the city. This is an interesting story with the contrast between mother and daughter. They experience the same fear and are told to ignore it.
Thanks for entering the New Member contest. Welcome to Storywrite. Let us know if we may be of assistance.
Andy, greeter
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Well, I had written this story about 2 weeks ago and I wanted to play on the idea of childhood fears and how we tend to ignore and/or forget about them when we grow up. So, indirectly, this story is related to the idea of Halloween: the fear, the excited terror, the mystery that only a child understands and only an adult can overlook.
Thank you, Gerifitzsimmoms, for the wonderful comment.
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Welcome to Storywrite and thank you for sharing your rather different tale about growing up with us
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It is a clever play on the changes that occur to us when we leave childhood and become adults.
As a little girl the mother experience the very same night terrors that came on her daughter. Did she remember, yes (I imagine with sad smile) did she understand and pity her child? That doesn’t appear to be the case. Since she no longer hears them—makes them not there.
Did you intend the fear of the city noise, that neither girl understood, be the tie-up to Halloween?
Your plot flowed nicely long and the characters were visible.
Good luck in the contest.
Geri
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sad~ There does always seem to be screaming or sirens in my city.. and they freak me out so bad cuz they're so close. Great story btw.
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