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balloonbiter · 1 year

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The Soft Sound(short story)

The sound of music faded as the needle finished its dance upon the grooved disc, a gleeful shout quickly followed and then the loud steps of a clumsy adolescent trying to grow up way too fast. The teen boy carefully lifted the record player needle before gingerly picking up the vinyl with his finger tips, afraid of his mothers scolding like a dog flattening its ears before its owner even raises their hand. There was a gentle pressure on his leg in sequence with content purrs which the adolescent returned with a playful and distracted pat. Joyful laughs echoed from outside rushing him to rejoin his kinfolk and soon the patient caution dissolved from his mind as he quickly fumbled to switch out the record.

The boy's face quickly changed from that of amused euphoria to bewilderment and then fear. The room was unbearably brightened in a flash, burning heat creeping up his skin before he heard the gunshot-like pop ripple through his eardrums and felt the pressure of what seemed like a thousand tons pushing him onto the splintery wood floor. His head hit the floor with such force it bounced the slightest bit upward before returning to its hard unforgiving place of rest. Vinyls cascaded off the table and smacked into the wall followed by the phonograph with a loud crash of many once carefully asembled delicate parts. Blood rushed to his now bruised head surrounding the assaulted nerves causing the beating of his heart to now echo throughout his head in agony. In those few seconds of sharp light every bone in his body was visible to the naked eye, and even the lidded eye, no matter how hard he scrunched his eyes closed he couldn't escape the sight of how his flesh lit up and the feeling of the feverish blaze that seemed to radiate throughout his body. Just as quickly as the light and heat had begun it departed in a wave of air, leaving the young man curled on the ground in shock.

The boy remained on the floor and let out a tormented groan which displayed the affliction he felt from every part of his abused body. His thoughts remained blank for what felt like hours before he considered his family, which jump started his mind racing. His thoughts were a mile a minute and he had no idea what to feel other than empty and defeated. He couldn't even begin to process what had happened and the many possibilities of the aftermath. It was then that a soft sound of a once purring animal hit his ears luring him out of his own head, a surely pained and panicked sound but a sound that could only be produced by another living creature. It was the only thing that felt real to him.

That one soft sound motivated the boy to open his eyes and push his upper body off the ground despite every fiber of his being urging him to stay down and wallow in pain. His shakey arms ascended him and he peered around the room hurriedly before the strained mew drew his eyes to the sight of his russian blue struggling under debris. He murmered sweetly to it in hopes of soothing the poor cat as his trembling fingers pried at various textiles. Round pale green eyes commanded his attention, rushing his muscles despite the ache. The young man tore through vinyl covers and hastely shoved shards of broken glass aside, ignoring the urge to seeth and recoil in pain as layers of skin were parted and small seas of red escaped. Only when the grey cat was freed of its captivity and prancing in rejoice did the boys adrenelin flatline and his injuries began to hinder him once again. He stayed crouched on the cluttered floor and ran his hand along the soft fur while he returned to his thoughts. He wasn't sure as to what he should do, should he clean up? Would his parents even care about the mess? But maybe they'd be sore as well and would appreciate a clean place to rest. The human brain, especially that of an adolescent, can be quite foolish when in shock.

Bruised knees were put to work and scraped palms were irritated once again when he arrised off the ruins of a formerly clean floor. He attempted to wet his dustly lips before repeatidly pressing them together to form sounds calling out to his companion. Microscopic debris crunched between his teeth in an undesirable fashion that reminded him of trips to the beach with his parents, when it seemed he couldn't escape the sand he'd end up tasting for days. An unattractive smile creeped onto the young man's face due to his reminiscing, and he let out a raspy laugh that sputtered into a cough. It shook his body into a leaned over position alerting the cat which strode over in concern and tilted its head with curious eyes. It felt as if each breath was full of sharp splinters that pin-balled throughout his lungs, but he pushed through the pain and pulled his body into an upright standing position with new found determination. The boy staggered with shakey inhales and subtle hand gestures that grabbed the cat's attention to follow his sloppy steps.

His foggy mind returned to the thought of the beach and suddenly the burns on his skin became the happy memory of the warm sun and strong waves of salty water shoving his body. The cuts on his hands reminded him of the sting of broken shells under his feet and of when he was a small boy how he dropped a glass vase. He grimaced at the thought of the scolding he recieved, how his father's deep baritone voice rang through his ears and shook his core to tears. The nudge of the cat became his adolescent lover shoving paper notes in his pockets during class and the warm embrace of his mother on a sunday morning. His memories became capricious in a bittersweet way.

The young man reached for the cold metal door handle with slight hidden fear looming in the back of his mind as he carefully opened the thick wooden door. Light peered through in streaks as it swung on its hinges letting out an eerie creak. He slowly stepped through the door frame unsure of what he'd see next but optimistic to a fault, the small cat followed suit obediantly. The warmth of the sun hit his face and he squinted his eyes to the burning overtaking of his pupils. He felt out his path with the tapping of his foot as if he were blind, in his worn down and discolored sneakers he could feel the ground through the thin soles as if his feet were bare. His mother openly disliked his tattered choice in foot wear and she'd remind him of that consistently. Each ginger step he took he could feel the ridges and valleys of the half rotten wooden planks that made up the porch and occasionally the edge of his rubber sole caught upon one of the many loose rusty nails jerking his body forward but his purring companion seemed unaffected by the inconsistent surface. He carried on without hesitation and ignored the slight movement of the unsteady and unreliable planks under his step.

He reached the steps of the porch and loosely cupped his hand around the pole that held up the overhanging roof and leaped down the steps swaying with slight rhythm, carelessly as he usually did on a day where the sun peeked through the clouds and left a smile across his lips. The boy was manically joyful and distracted by the memory of the last song played on the phonogragh. The grey cat was puzzled by the humans actions and erratic mood but was excited nonetheless and watching with eager eyes. He took light steps with only the front of his feet meeting the ground and spun like a coin, ripping up trifling clumps of dirt in the yard.

Silence hung in the air, even the routine soft sounds of bird calls were absent, only quiet purring, heavy breathing, and the mouth made humming echoed through the desolate lot. The unhealthily gleeful teen eventually retired from his dancing once his exhausted muscles reminded him of the previous straining events. Instead he continued a more casual stride around the outside of a once lively house. The shubbery was bare and the flowers were just crisp stems protruding out of the ground in an unsightly way that contrasted how the garden apeared moments ago, when the saxophone's sweet sounds were still replicated by a needle.

He rounded the corner of the house and was immediately horrified by the sight. There laid the remains of his family melted against the ground that they had all danced upon prior. He was frozen in shock and all he could do was take in the sight. He saw his mothers mangled body covered by the remnants of her sunday dress, its floral print charred against her skin. Her head bare of its previously long sleek hair, her face missing all of its features that the boy had taken comfort in seeing throughout his adolescence, her face was sunken in holes that seemed to be, to him, staring back at the boy. She was in the literal sense, just skin and bones.

Beside her, her husband was in a similar state, burnt strings of muscle hanging off his bones and the stench of his flesh hung stale in the air.

The boy stood a few feet away when his body finally began to untense, hot tears pooled out of his eyes and stung against his radiation burnt skin. His knees quivered in sync with his lower lip as it gaped open to only let out a quiet strangled shriek. He fell to the ground with a harsh thud, his jean clad knees struck the dry dirt, and his hands ran through his hair digging into his scalp as he tugged aggressively in a panic and gasped out for air with snot and tears rolling down his face. He let out long desperate wails and began to strike the sides of his own head with his fists irratically until his hands went numb and he had an unbearable headache. His head was hot with pressure and his eyesight was blurry. He choked out more sobs as he looked at their disfigured faces once more and pictured what they had looked like before the blast.

He reached out his raw hand to touch what was left of his mothers cheek but was too revolted and petrified by the sight of her to get any closer. He hated himself for being frightened by the image of his own kin and gagging at their smell but he couldn't bring himself to feel any other way. The former image of parents was now permanently adulterated in his mind. His arm just stayed limply outstretched in the air until a grey blur padded quietly from behind the boy and brushed against his arm. The cat seemed to stop and observe much like the boy did before, but instead it just let out a quiet mew and curled up on the ground between the two corpses. The boy let his outstretched arm rest on the back of the cat causing it to let out continual purrs.

The steady rhythm of internal vibrations and external rise and fall of the small body that his hand stayed placed on calmed him enough to make his thoughts comprehensible. He mused about when his mother first saw the floral print dress in the shop window, how hot it was outside and how the store lights irritated his eyes when he stepped into the overwhelmingly cluttered store. He recreated the image of how her face lit up when his father carefully pinched the paper price tag between his fingers, the clean aroma of the small store fresh in his memory. He thought about how he'd never see her face light up again, he'd only see it rot.

The word "rot" rang through his mind like it was an echo through a canyon, it seeped through his consciousness until he couldn't stand it anymore. He clenched his jaw closed tightly, grinding his teeth, and squeezed his eyes shut as if the word were an external foe he could hide from. He abruptly stopped petting the cat and opened his now dry eyes once more as he quickly and sloppily pushed himself off the soil. He took another sorrowful glance at what was left of his parents and turned away before his eyes could begin to water again. He walked slowly back around the house with his cat unknowingly following. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, every particle of dirt was like quick sand to him in his head, swallowing him and weighing him down. When the young man reached the front porch and neared the door he felt ready to collapse but he pushed himself to keep going, one foot in front of the other, he had one last hope. As he pushed the creaking door he internally debated on if he should hold it open for the cat to return inside with him, but before he could decide the pet bounded in lightly. The door swung shut and exhaled a small gust of air that pushed the lighter wreckage of the room. The boy's shoes crunched over broken decor and crept around knocked over furniture until he found what he had been looking for. He lifted his body unsteadily upwards by his tip toes, he aggressively fumbled with a closed cold grey metal box attached to the wall before it finally clicked open. His fingers shakely examined the hand crafted and smoothed wood before fully retrieving it from its lodging. He took the item with both hands and sat cross legged on the ground. The unaware cat had approached the boy and layed happily in his lap. Cold metal rested at his temple then the loud pop ricocheted around the room. The last thing that could be consciously heard was the soft sound of purring.

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