The Call

Artwork: Julia Yellow (source)

I can hear it: in the night, at lunch, as I walk down the street. It is loud and is getting louder every day, shouting my name and urging me to come. It accompanies me where ever I go. Sometimes it’s a ringing whisper in the back of my head; other times it’s a horrible, jarring, screeching tone.

It wasn’t always this loud. It used to be a dim voice that I would notice every now and then; an accompanying soundtrack when I heard a certain song or watched a certain show. But now it has got a hold of my heart strings and the constant vibrations cause pain and tears. It messes with my mind and plays with my feelings. But there’s no way I can stop the call until I go back to the source and hang up the phone.

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