Broken Silence

Prologue

-The day before The End~

I sat silent in my room, fuzzy bed sheets wrapped around my body like an artificial cocoon. My head rested gently on a linen pillowcase, which smelt faintly of fabric softener. The soft pitter-patter of rain drizzled monotonous on the windowpane across the room. It made me think of little people, trapped outside, begging to be let in. Banging their tiny, nonexistent fists on the glass in a desperate attempt at a freedom they'll never acquire.

It was the late nights like those that my brain didn't want to shut of and I overthought things like that. When I was all warm and drowsy my brain would suddenly spring to life and run like a clueless little hamster on its wheel, pointless but amusing. It made me wonder why we even had brains, why we were so high on the evolutionary ladder. Why were humans smarter than birds? Smarter than cats? Smarter than fish? Why did we get to control how life on this planet worked? Why didn't something else take our place?

There I went again, my brain chugging off into the distance on my train of thought. Why couldn't I ever think straight?

I sat up in bed, annoyed by the fact that my head wouldn't shut up. I threw of my covers and swung my cold, bare feet into a fluffy pair of bunny slippers that guarded the side of my bed. A yawn escaped my lips, even though I was wide awake.

I pushed up off the bed and stumbled in the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust. After what seemed like an eternity, I could make out the dull shapes of furniture placed around the room. I wavered over to the desk opposite my bed and reached somewhat blindly for the chair. I sat down and squinted as I searched for the power button on my laptop. I turned it on and it whirred to life. A blinding flash of light obscured my vision as the computer woke up. I rubbed my hands over my face and blinked a few times to shake off the feeling.

I groped for the mouse and after a minute or so, managed to find the darned thing sitting far to the back of he desk.

I clicked on the search engine on the brightly lit screen and slowly type in "Definition of the word smart".

I got about a dozen useless, sarcastic remarks about stupidity and intelligence and finally after a bit of scrolling, I found a little online dictionary.

Definition of the word smart:

smart

smɑːt/

adjective

1.(of a person) clean, tidy, and well dressed.

2.Characterized by sharp quick thought; bright.

3.Capable of making adjustments that resemble human decisions, especially in response to changing circumstances

I laughed to myself, but quickly stopped. I didn't want to wake my parents or anything. So I started to smile instead. I smiled because I felt that I was the exact opposite of smart.

"Oh, Cassie," I whispered to myself. Is it weird to whisper to yourself? I hope not. "Why must you be so clueless and strange. What are you doing with your life?"

I leaned back in my chair as far as it would go, stretching my arms out into the dark above me. Another yawn slipped my tongue and before I knew it, my brain actually shut off.

I woke the next morning still in my chair. My laptop had automatically shut off and the screen was as black as night. The tappity-tap of rain was still thundering on my window, making me recall the thoughts about the little people. I shook my head and stood up. I tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen. I found a loaf of almost-fresh bread and grabbed the two biggest pieces and tossed them into the toaster.