The Silent

Carlisle woke late and hungry, having not eaten since the morning before. He pushed the green button on the box hanging directly above his tiny dresser. He opened his door and waited anxiously for the food to be delivered. It was only a few moments before Marshall, looking slightly more tired than the day before, set the tray on Carlisle’s desk. Carlisle wanted to ask him if he was feeling well but was silenced by another glare. Though given the most luxurious meal of mashed potatoes and chicken fried steak with gravy, the taste was lost to him. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure if he was hungry or if his body just told him he was out of habit.

After finishing most of the tasteless meal, Carlisle wandered down to the empty reception area. There he found three tables and a couple of leather couches. The tables each had a game or puzzle laying on top. He found a puzzle of three cats playing with balloons. That’s just silly, their claws would pop the balloons. Marshall came into the room, swept up the puzzle and presented a new one with a multi-faceted world in black and white. Now this is better. Abby would love this scene. Carlisle had never felt so relaxed in all his thirty-six years. He finished the puzzle and Marshall brought him another, this one filled with hot air balloons floating like bobbers in water, which he finished within hours. The last one he was given was one of his own beloved Abby, staring up at him from the broken pieces. He put the pieces together as though he’d done so a thousand times before. Each and every detail of her face flashing in front of him in a strange permanence, dancing in and out of the tiny puddles forming on most of the pieces. Her solemn expression standing alone, watching, bestowing the guilt he knew deserved.