Dissipation
Noah
The boy crouched in the dirt, under a bush whose branches drooped over to make a sort of umbrella, his secret hiding place. Early this morning, the low growling had started in his head, driving him here, away from the man. He’d tried to warn his mother in the old way, thinking it at her as hard as he could, but she didn’t understand. She never understood anymore.
Slowly, trying to ignore the menacing growl in his head, he traced letters in the dust. H-A-N-Z-U-S-H-I, the name of the make-believe place in his head. He drew a circle around the letters and stared at it. Then, he wiped it out and wrote B-R-O-N-W-E-N, the name of the cave-dwelling hero he liked best. He stared at that, and then drew a squiggly line under it.
The growl grew louder. He cringed. The man was angry. Frantically, he searched for his mother, looking behind the roar. There. A tiny, golden thread of warmth. His mother was there, making herself as small and quiet as possible.
The growling suddenly burst into a roar that had as little to do with his ears as the blinding flash of light had to do with his eyes. He clutched his head.
Then, it was silent, and dark.
Noah panicked, searching for his mom again. Nothing. She was gone.
Slowly, he wiped away his tears and the words in the dirt, curled into a ball, and filled his head with a white fog that blocked out the growling, and when they came, the sound of sirens.
Slowly, trying to ignore the menacing growl in his head, he traced letters in the dust. H-A-N-Z-U-S-H-I, the name of the make-believe place in his head. He drew a circle around the letters and stared at it. Then, he wiped it out and wrote B-R-O-N-W-E-N, the name of the cave-dwelling hero he liked best. He stared at that, and then drew a squiggly line under it.
The growl grew louder. He cringed. The man was angry. Frantically, he searched for his mother, looking behind the roar. There. A tiny, golden thread of warmth. His mother was there, making herself as small and quiet as possible.
The growling suddenly burst into a roar that had as little to do with his ears as the blinding flash of light had to do with his eyes. He clutched his head.
Then, it was silent, and dark.
Noah panicked, searching for his mom again. Nothing. She was gone.
Slowly, he wiped away his tears and the words in the dirt, curled into a ball, and filled his head with a white fog that blocked out the growling, and when they came, the sound of sirens.