The Silk Noose

I first saw the silk noose about a month ago.

Yeah, I know that's a weird way to start, but when you see a noose made out of silk hanging in the air in your bedroom you tend to lead with it. I just woke up one morning and there it was. It wasn't attached to my ceiling so much as... dangling through it. Like it or the cheap plaster wasn't real.

At this point most people would freak out and run screaming to a psychologist and maybe I would have been one of them, but it's hard to see a shrink without a job. I couldn't even remember the last time I was employed. My parents were the only thing keeping me from starving to death on the street at this point. Both were retired and on a fixed income so there goes any mental health money.

Still, there was now a noose hanging from my ceiling. White, shiny, light enough to gently swing on even the slightest breeze. That pretty much describes silk, right? It just hangs there over the bed, casting a shadow directly over my dingy little computer desk in the light from my dirty window.

What the hell are you gonna do? Me, I just shrugged my shoulders and made it a point to ignore it. It was easy at first. Wake up, see the noose, get out of bed, go to the bathroom... yadda yadda, you don't need the sad ass recap of my daily life. It's kind of amazing what you can just get used to, you know? Well, maybe you don't.

Life goes on and all that. More failed job hunts, more stupid internet crap, more avoiding eye contact with the old people I know I'm disappointing steadily more on a daily basis. I guess that's why I didn't notice at first. I didn't SEE it. I didn't realize... it was getting lower.

The whispering started last week. Just murmurs, like a conversation two rooms over. You know it's happening but you can't make out the words. I'd fully accepted my new ceiling decoration by then. I even accepted it having gotten low enough to gently brush the top of my head board during particularly violent gusts from the ceiling fan. It was actually sort of soothing by this point, the gentle waving back and forth like a hollow pendulum. There was something about the whispers that just felt... right. The little rustling dry noise would ease me to sleep each night. What the hell, it wasn't real. Ceiling nooses aren't a thing.

It's only been a few days now but I've gotten so used to it. I... I think I like it in a way. More un-returned calls, more failure, more guilt, more pointless days just existing... and it just sways there. Accepting everything. I think it's the source of the whispering. I know it doesn't form words, but that doesn't really matter. It's all so soothing. Warm, white noise that seems to say everything is going to be all right.

I touched it today. Is.. Is that weird? It was soft. So soft. Like cotton candy. I ran it through my fingers and I could hear the whispers grow louder. A warm voice now... distant but there. I don't know if it had words.. It was just too far away. The sound was so sweet though. It wants me there. It wants me to hear. There has to be a way to hear it more clearly. 

Huh.. Did you know when they hung people professionally they'd tuck the knot up right behind the left ear? It's so light and soft... I wouldn't even notice it around my neck. It's right there above the bed, just above the pillow. I'd just have to lay down and then lean up a little. I guess that's why I'm writing this. I know I shouldn't. It's crazy. It's a NOOSE.

Wow... I can't believe THAT'S the part I'm focusing on. It's a hallucination. Ceiling nooses aren't a THING. I can't possibly be crazy enough to fear ceiling nooses killing me. I'm going to do it. It's even moved closer now. When did it get to this side of the room? Wait... I can hear the whispering again... It's so close now but.. I have to. I.. Just grip it by the twists here, pull it up and over theankj;lm/.,masdzxc 

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