The Silenced Land

I live in a land of silence, as quiet as a graveyard; yet as relaxing as a day on the beach. We human beings do love talking, right? It is hard to imagine how our lives would be without talking, isn’t it? But the town is there, a town of silent people who are terrified of talking. It would be expected that there haven’t been any exciting incidents in that town. However, humanity has always been a good source of “incidents”. And Linda was the one with the brightest face but bleak plans. She was a free-souled troublemaker.

The year is now 2270 but the story of this strange town leads back to 2030: The end for most of the world. What is meant by “the end”? The literal devastation of humanity, misery, and poverty, all because of nuclear warfare between the greatest powers (!) of the world. Unfortunately, I am too young to have experienced those. I was born in a little Amish village in Indiana and lived a peaceful life until I was 16. But when my parents died, I broke free and tried to find my path in life. It was a sunny, desert-hot afternoon when I finally arrived at “The Silenced Land”. As loudly as I could, I screamed for help. A bunch of people jumped out of their doors with horrific expressions of shock on their faces. As I talked and talked and talked, I didn’t stop for a second until I heard Linda’s angelic voice telling me to stop.

I have always thought that love at first sight is a total lie, but still I believe my feelings at that moment can be none other than that. It took us a 30 minute walk to find a secure place to talk, which of course doubled my horror and anxiety. When I finally heard all about the crazy story of the town I freezed. “ One of the Korean missiles landed so close to this town that most of the people became deaf because of its voice. The ones who are not deaf couldn’t hear that much either, so as the time and many generations passed this isolated people forgot how to speak. Except one family, the family I was born into.” said Linda. “But how can they live without saying a word?” I cried. She said that I will understand pretty soon and so I did.

They had a very strange and hard to understand system for daily communication, it included only simple facial expressions with a little bit of gestures. Anyways, thanks to Linda I have survived in that crazy town. In fact, we were quite happy, milking the cows and taking care of the crops until we heard the strangest and the strongest voice ever. We had no idea about the source of it or how close it was as we had no way of communication with the outer world. Days passed and Linda got more worried and worried about the voice. I strongly denied her suggestion of leaving the town and having a trip to the north, where we assumed the voice came from. Nevertheless; the black, sinister birds convinced me to go one morning. I still don’t know what was so alarming about them but it is what it is. 

We left town in a rush without letting anyone know, just two of us holding hands against the burning sun. I don’t know how much it took for us to reach that damned valley in the middle of nowhere but I wish we had never been there. It was covered with old, rusty pipelines and there was a lake of black, oil-like substance in the middle. I wish that had been all but the strong smell of a slaughterhouse and old trees which were still on fire blew Linda’s mind. She resisted my hand holding her arms and hopped into one of the pipes. I didn’t hesitate for a moment to follow her. I grovelled and grovelled with the echo of her steps but the pipe wasn’t ending. I could feel the stinky blackness all over my face when I finally fainted.

Now, I am an old man living in nothing but vain in “The Silenced Land”. I milk the cows and take care of crops just like we did with my Linda. She never died in my mind so each night before I sleep I murmur these words:

Come to me in the silence of the night;

        Come in the speaking silence of a dream;

Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright

        As sunlight on a stream;

                Come back in tears,

O memory, hope, love of finished years.

 

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