Aaron
The front door clicks shut softly behind me, and I stand there for a moment, absorbing the silence of the house. The chill of the evening lingers around me, despite the warmth that the house should offer. The kind of warmth that’s meant to soothe the weariness of a long day. But right now, the house feels colder than it should. There’s a weight pressing on me, a gnawing tension in my chest that’s been building all night, and no amount of soft lighting or familiar surroundings can ease it.
I slip off my shoes, the quiet sound of them hitting the hardwood floor punctuating the stillness. The house is too quiet. I’ve always loved the quiet—the kind that settles around you like a blanket, but tonight, it’s different. The silence is oppressive, and the only thing that seems to offer any
