Faceless

(Day Two, "The Silence")

The sun is blazing. It's a lot hotter than it has been. It's supposed to be winter, right?

It snowed two days ago. It was like fire against my skin.

Speaking of my skin, it's becoming flaky and grey. Everything's grey, or at least grayscale.

I found a puddle today. I barely recognized the girl in the reflection. My eyes are bloodshot. My hair is constantly falling out. It's so patchy, I can barely gather it into a ponytail. When I can, half of it spills out and gets in my face. The coat I stole once from Father is all torn and dirty.

I'm still myself, I think.

Even though I don't look like it.

Or feel like it.

Food.

I need food.

My stomach just growled. Could you hear that?

(crunching, like walking on brittle ground.)

I'll keep talking as I walk, I suppose. I need to tell you about the Society.

The Silence was glorious, with a huge pristine building filled with rotating walls and secret passages and so, so many rooms.

I grew up in the building. The sign overhead called it "Rosebud" but that was leftover from an old, old hospital of the same name. It doesn't have the same pizazz as the Society of the Silence.

There's been a lot of attempted societies over the years. Maybe I'm biased, but the Silence has worked the best.

I can still smell the antibacterial halls and the bright halls. The food was amazing, all cooked by all the professional cooks found in the wasteland.

Songs always blared through the speakers, mostly 2040's, but some really old tunes from the 2010's and 2020's.

One wing was dedicated to families. Father and I had a first-level room leading out into the woods. He was a biologist, after all, so it makes sense he had a room close to the forest.

Everywhere else was workplaces. Offices, labs, cafes, you name it.

It was glorious.

And then I burnt it down.

I can-

(pause.)

There's food here. I don't know how long it'll stay.

Bye.

(end of recording.)