Ever feel like you hear murmurs when no one else is around?
He was going to ask his parents that question--and his brother, his sister, his friends, and
his girlfriend. Not his co-workers, though. They didn't know him well enough. They'd only
think he was crazy. And well...maybe he was, in a way.
He never actually heard any murmurs, but there were always certain places that made
him feel like he was GOING to hear them. He'd walk into his bedroom at night to get
something, and he could just feel words approaching. Murmurs. Whispers. From his closet.
From behind his bureau. He could never be sure where they would come from. He just found
himself hit with an overwhelming and frightening urge to get out of that room before some
mysterious being started whispering his name. That was why it was so important to turn on
the TV at night in the living room. He just couldn't stand the silence. After all, the murmurs
could come from anywhere, like they were softly breathing within the walls of any given
room in his house. The sounds of the TV would drown them out, or better yet, prevent them
The same idea applied to his daily driving routine. He always had to turn on the car
radio, just in case someone was hiding in the back seat but scrunched up on the floor,
behind the driver's seat. He didn't want to stop at a red light and suddenly feel
someone's breath in his ear and hear an unknown voice murmuring something. Maybe
something threatening. Maybe something not so threatening. Either way, the very thought
of it was enough to make him want to BLAST the radio. But then the driver next to him
would give him a dirty look. What was he supposed to do?
On second thought, maybe he better not tell his girlfriend these things. She might not
want to be his girlfriend anymore. She might not want to know him anymore, period.
Maybe no one would.