What They Can’t Hear

I couldn’t sleep that night. Just like every other night for the past month, I haven’t slept. Not one bit. I’d already been to the doctor, and they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Nothing they prescribed seemed to work. No medication helped. No therapy helped. Counting sheep didn’t help. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t sleep. 

On top of that, I was waiting impatiently for my family to come home. My wife, Sarah, and our seven-year-old daughter, Eliza, had gone shopping to get Eliza some new clothes because she was starting school soon. Eliza was so excited. She couldn’t wait to meet her teachers and make new friends. She’s so smart already that I just know she’s going to be an amazing student, and one of the smartest kids there. But, as I sat there in the living room, I realized that it was already nine p.m. and they still weren’t home from shopping yet. The mall closed at eight, meaning they were an hour late. Sarah had accidentally left her cell phone here at the house, so I couldn’t contact her. 

Don’t panic yet, I told myself sternly. Keep yourself occupied until they get home.

With a heavy, exasperated sigh, I slumped into my old, rickety recliner in the living room and switched on the T.V. When I glanced at the clock on my wall, it was already three a.m. Tonight was no different from any other night. I shook my head. 

I wasn’t feeling tired at all. 

Guess I wasn’t sleeping tonight either. Not until they came home at least. 

At first, the T.V. blared static, momentarily transfixing me. For a good while (I’m not sure how long exactly), I just stared at it, unmoving. I don’t know how much time passed, but I blinked, and switched to a channel. An old black and white show came on, and I leaned back in my chair. 

But as I sat there, I heard it again. That insanely loud, high-pitched noise that came out of nowhere. 

I jerked upright, desperately trying to find the source of the sound. It kept going off, a constant, ear-piercing alarm that made me cover my ears and double over in pain. The noise, whatever it was, hammered in my ears, making them bleed. I don’t know how long this went on for, but it felt like hours. 

Endless, excruciating hours. 

Finally, it stopped.

When I realized it stopped, I slowly uncovered my ears. I stayed frozen in the chair, too afraid to move. Slowly, with caution, I stood up, scanning my apartment, trying to make sense of what happened. I had no idea where the sound had come from, or what the hell it was. And, when I placed my hands to my ears, blood was still oozing from them. Quickly, I rushed to the bathroom to get some paper towels to stop the bleeding.

As soon as the bleeding stopped, a sudden knock came at my door. Perplexed, I walked over towards it. I wondered who it could be, because there was no need for Sarah and Eliza to knock at the door. 

When I opened it, I realized it was one of my neighbors. Mr. Hershel, who lived just a few houses down from mine. He was a nice man who had been widowed for quite some time. He had short, white hair and a beard, and wore round-rimmed glasses. He lived alone with just his cat, but he didn’t seem to mind being alone. Not anymore at least. 

“Oh, Mr. Hershel. How are you?” I asked kindly. 

“Doing quite well, thank you, John. I just wanted to stop by and ask how are things here? Do you need anything?” 

I smiled. Mr. Hershel was one of the kindest neighbors we had. He was always offering to help, and I would do the same in return. 

“Not at the moment, no. Thank you anyways.” I paused, a light chuckle escaping my lips, “Actually, if you can figure out what’s making this God-awful, high-pitch noise, I’d really appreciate it. It’s driving me mad. It actually made my ears bleed too.”

Mr. Hershel raised an eyebrow, “A noise? I-I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I hear it every now and then,” I confirmed, “and I can’t for the life of me figure out where it’s coming from.”

Mr. Hershel put a finger on his chin in thought, “Hm. That’s odd. Maybe you should check your appliances, make sure it’s not coming from one of them. Sorry, that’s the only decent advice I can give you. Did you need anything else?”

I thought for a moment, almost too distracted waiting for the noise to happen again to listen to what Mr. Hershel was saying. I kept waiting and waiting, hoping it would sound off before Mr. Hershel left so he’d be able to hear it too. But it remained quiet. 

“No, thank you. I’m just waiting for Sarah and Eliza to come home. They’re late as usual. Their dinner is going to get cold.”

Mr. Hershel nodded. At first, it looked like he was going to say something, but then he abruptly shut his mouth. Then, once he figured out what to say, he sighed, “I see. I’m sure they’ll be home soon. Good luck with that noise that you’re hearing. You might have to call a maintenance worker to see if they can fix it. Take care, now John.”

I nodded, waving him goodbye as he turned around and began to walk home. 

After Mr. Hershel left, I was alone again. I returned to my recliner and continued watching T.V. when I checked the time, it was nearing ten p.m. already. My heart began to beat a little bit faster. Where the hell were Sarah and Eliza? Why weren’t they home yet? Should I call the police?

I shook my head. Now I was just being irrational. Besides, the police weren’t going to take this seriously just yet. They don’t usually start investigating a missing person’s case unless the person has been missing for twenty-four hours.

It had only been two hours. 

I just needed to wait for them to come home. They’d be here soon enough. 

So, I ate dinner alone that night. I re-heated what I’d already made; meatloaf with some broccoli and mashed potatoes, then continued to watch T.V. For a while, I didn’t hear the loud, high-pitched noise either. It was blissful. Serene. The fact that I was able to calmly watch television and eat my dinner made me so happy. So at peace. The only thing that would make me happier is if Sarah and Eliza came home. But I knew they’d be home any minute now. 

Eventually, it was midnight. By now, full-on panic had begun to overwhelm me. It wasn’t like Sarah to be this late. A couple hours, maybe. But, she always had her phone on with her. It wasn’t like her to leave it behind. Even without her phone, she would’ve found a way to call me. She always did. 

At that moment, I knew something was wrong. 

However, just as I was about to call the police, I heard it again. That screeching, high-pitched noise that made me cry out in pain and drop to my knees. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I couldn’t take it anymore! This noise was just too much. It hurt too much! I needed to get out of here. I just needed to escape!

I didn’t grab anything before I left. I just wanted to get out of my house, as far away from it as I possibly could. I sprinted down the road, as fast as my legs could carry me. I wanted to go to the police station. I needed to tell them about Sarah and Eliza. To get them to start searching for them. 

But, as I kept running, the noise kept getting worse. It seemed as if the further away I got from my house, the louder and more intense the noise became. I collapsed to the ground, hyperventilating, beads of cold sweat pouring from my forehead, soaking my shirt. 

I was in the middle of the street, unable to move. As the noise continued to intensify, I began seeing flash images in my mind. Images that, at first, didn’t make sense.

I saw a newspaper clipping of a terrible, devastating car crash that happened just a few weeks ago. Two people were killed, but I couldn’t see who. The image changed too quickly. 

Then, another image flashed. I was at a hospital, visiting someone. I was sobbing uncontrollably, unable to form a singular thought or sentence. Something terrible happened, but I couldn’t remember what. The image was too blurry for me to see anything clearly. 

The last and final image was the worst. I was at a funeral, and at first, I didn’t understand why I was there. There were so many people, including Mr. Hershel. Most of the neighborhood had shown up. And there, standing on the left side, was Sarah’s family.  They were grieving, Sarah’s mother was in shambles. As I looked closer, I could see two pictures at the front of the podium. I strained my eyes, struggling to see who it was. 

A horrible, sinking feeling crushed me from the inside. It threatened to tear me open, to kill me. I saw myself collapse on the ground and I began to sob like a baby.

No. No, no, no. No! 

This couldn’t be happening. 

Sarah. My little girl, Eliza. It was them. 

They’d been the ones in the car crash. And I was at their funeral. 

Once the visions ended, it was as if I snapped back to reality. Suddenly, I was no longer collapsed in the middle of the road. Now, however, I was in some kind of white, padded room. There was nothing inside of it, nothing at all. Except me. 

I jumped slightly, my body trembling from the intensity of the flash memories as the door slid open. A nurse came in, holding a silver tray in her hands. On top of it was a weekly pill container, a cup of water, and a syringe with some liquid inside. 

“Hello, John. How are we feeling today?” She asked, her voice sweet as honey. 

“I-I saw it. I saw it happen all over again. My family…they’re-they’re all gone. I’ve lost everything. And, what’s worse…I’m still hearing that noise.” I shivered, a cold chill running up and down my spine. 

The nurse kneeled down, giving me a sad look. I knew she pitied me, but I didn’t care. I just wanted my family back. I wanted that noise to go away. I wanted my life to be normal again. 

“There, there, John. You’re going to be alright. Here. Take your medicine and you won’t hear the noise anymore,” she cooed. She handed me the pills and cup of water. I opened them, taking my two daily pills. 

Then, as I took them, she injected me with the needle. I wasn’t sure what was in the syringe. But, as soon as I felt the prick in my forearm, I began to get really sleepy. Exhaustion overwhelmed me to the point where I could barely stay awake anymore. My eyes grew heavier and heavier. 

“You’ll be okay, John,” the nurse whispered, “as long as you keep taking your medicine, you won’t hear the noise anymore.”