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The silence pierced Simons mind like glass. He couldn’t remember the last time his mind had been this silent. He scrunched up his eyes to look at the patterns and swirls forming and disappearing behind his eye lids, trying desperately to get his mind working. Think, think about anything he willed his mind, trying to focus. He couldn’t stay on the topics he was comfortable with. His mind drifted from poetry to less savoury topics in a matter of seconds. He began thinking about his dad, his mother. Simon didn’t want to think about the family he hadn’t seen in years. He tried dragging his mind to safer things, like Amy. Yes, Amy, with her smile that would light up a room. Amy, who he had just moved in with. His mind drifted to the loneliness he felt in this small village, the only familiar face being Amy’s. His mind went blank after that, a white silence descending over his mind. He felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin.
Simon covered his ears and scrunched his eyes. Desperate for any stimuli. He didn’t realize until he paused to suck in a breath that he had been humming, not any song, just humming a long flat note, devoid of any tune. He needed something to pull the flat line of his mind back into steady, sharp points. The silence had engulfed him. His mind wouldn’t think. The thoughts that he had desperately pushed away had finally deserted him, leaving his mind still and stagnant.
Simon tried to figure out how to get his mind working. Talking wouldn’t work. He would just snap at anyone unfortunate enough to try to talk with him. Books wouldn’t work either. His mind would get pulled into a clear white fog of nothingness and he would be left reading the same paragraph over and over. The white fog had engulfed his childhood. The white fog was coming back. Before the Rising Simon had used drugs to stimulate his mind. No use trying them now. No blood flow, no way of transporting the stimulant to his unnaturally silent brain. Simon had no way to get the fog to leave for at least a few hours. Simon remembered reading somewhere that music was like a drug for the mind. He remembered reading that it would stimulate the mind. Simon needed music.
Simon couldn’t think where to find music. This was Amy’s house. They had just moved in yesterday. His mind was too occupied with being empty for him to go searching through the draws for music. Simon curled in on himself on the edge of the bed. He hugged his arms around himself, giving into the need for a heavy pressure on his body. He needed something to focus on. Simon realized he had started humming again. He let himself, he needed another noise on his ears other than this oppressive silence that had engulfed the world around him. He screwed up his eyes, needing to look at something other than the white walls of Amy’s depressingly bare bedroom. Simon sat there for who knows how long.
That’s how Amy found him. Curled into himself on the side of the bed. Humming.. London Bridge? She guessed. He was closing and opening his eyes in a steady rhythm. Simon didn’t notice Amy’s presence until she sat beside him, putting her hand gingerly on his back. Simon startled before leaning into her. Amy wrapped her arms around Simon, squeezing. She remembered that on the train to Roarton Simon had told her about how to deal with him if he started acting like this.
He said needed pressure. He said that she shouldn’t try to speak to him when he was like this. He said that it would only end in a screaming fit on his part and an irreparably ruined relationship between them. Amy didn’t believe the later for one second of course, but she didn’t try to talk either. She didn’t want to distress her boyfriend. Amy thought that she might want to retrieve a heavy blanket from her linen closet but thought better of it when Simon locked his arms around her waist. Amy looked across the room, to the white wall. She noticed the dust starting to build on all the surfaces of the house.
Amy had no idea how long she had been sitting there, all she knew was that it was long enough for her leg to go numb from where she had curled it under herself. Simon mumbled something under his breath. Amy leaned closer, conflicted as to answer Simon or not “What was that, handsome?” she eventually asked him.
“Music” He mumbled “Something with clear words” He needed words to focus on. Words that his mind could process and roll over in his mind.
Amy was taken aback by the strange request, but got up off of the bed and left the room to gather what Simon had wanted. She came back with a few discs. Mix CD’s that Kieren had made her after finding out her favourite songs who knows how long ago. Amy didn’t see why she shouldn’t be allowed to enjoy listening to the music as well. She held them out to Simon “Do you care which one?” she asked. Simon shook his head without looking up from where he had his eyes pressed into the palms of his hands. Amy made a noise of acknowledgement in the back of her throat as she moved over to the CD player and put a silver disc in.
Amy could see Simon begin to unfurl his bulky form as the music pierced through the silence that had engulfed the room. She was glad of the music as it began to dissipate the silence. Amy watched curiously as Simon hands began to beat against his knees in time with the music. He carried on this movement until the melody came out from under the bass of the song. That’s when his fingers carving through the air, twitching up and down. His eyes were still screwed shut, though his over posture was more relaxed than when Amy had gotten home from her shopping trip.
Simon could feel the music pulsing through his body, lifting the fog off of his mind, like a veil was being pulled off, clearing his senses. He could feel the weight in his limbs seeping out of them. He rolled his shoulders and then neck. A small smile broke across his face. Simon could feel his arms twirling through the air in unorganized patterns. Simon felt better. Better for the first time in the past week. The stress of the move to Roarton, of the preparations, of the drastic change in his carefully crafted daily routine, of the important task ahead. All that stress lifted off of his chest. Simon relaxed after a few more minutes, after a few more songs had run their course. He slouched back on the bed. Amy lay down beside him, propped up on her elbow. “You feeling better, handsome?” She carded her fingers his hair. Simon sighed contentedly. He was tired after today. He stretched his arms and legs. “Yeah” he mumbled, sliding his drooping eyes towards Amy. “Much better.”