Scared Silence

Beautiful things never last. That’s what people say, isn’t it? Maybe that’s why the world destroys them so easily. A beautiful memory. A beautiful friendship. A beautiful life. One moment, everything feels perfect. Untouchable. Like nothing could ever ruin it. And then suddenly… it’s gone. Not because time erased it. Not because fate demanded it. But because someone decided to tear it apart with their own hands. I used to wonder why people hurt others so effortlessly. What do they gain from watching someone break? What satisfaction comes from ruining a life piece by piece until the person no longer recognizes themselves? Peace? Power? Or maybe people simply enjoy destruction. Maybe some souls are born cruel. The frightening part is that monsters rarely look like monsters. They smile. They laugh. They blend into crowds so perfectly that you never notice the darkness hiding behind their eyes. Until it’s too late. Until someone disappears. Until whispers begin spreading through hallways. Until fear settles into every corner like a disease nobody can cure. People think silence is harmless. It isn’t. Silence hides secrets. Silence buries the truth. Silence protects the guilty. And sometimes, silence kills. There was a time when I believed memories could protect people. That if you loved someone enough, they would stay. That promises meant something. I was wrong. Because no matter how tightly you hold onto something beautiful, the world always finds a way to steal it from you. And when it does… It doesn’t leave behind clean ruins. It leaves nightmares. Questions. Bloodstained memories that follow you everywhere. Some stories begin with love. Some begin with tragedy. Mine began with a silence so terrifying… that even now, I can still hear it.