Make Sure You’re Silent

We had to venture out that day. We’d been in too long, stuck between those four walls but we honestly thought it’d be alright. We go out, grab some food and get back in, simple as that.

Now I find myself placing a gun to my husbands head as he’s tied to the chair not uttering, silence.

There was nothing but silence when we ventured out, just as it needs to be. First down the long end hallway of our apartment block building. No creeks, nothing, barely the sound of breathing.

Heading out was always the hard part. To cross that threshold, entering back into the world was terrifying. That first step across really took some pain but we did it. The air hitting us hard.

It was dark, just turning to night. It was always the best of times to come out. In the dead silence. They never heard you then.

Creeping through the streets. Hush sounds, the breeze but that was all. We stuck close me and him, never leaving each other’s sides.

I always told him to keep silent. We wouldn’t even talk while we were out, any noise and they’d hear. Hear everything thing scream for more then that’d be it. We’d be done.

We didn’t stay out for long. We couldn’t do it, just couldn’t find anything, it was pointless but then it happened. We stumbled across one, the grotesque little thing. It was a teen, no more than 17 maybe 18. Crouching on the ground swaying side to side, it hadn’t heard us yet.

I ushered to turn round but no, Mr big shot drew his bat. Swaying it side to side. We’d not been like the rest yet and resorted to cannibalism, we just couldn’t do it.

It didn’t move, it didn’t do anything just sway. Hunched over with nothing to do. I ushered again to just head back, he wasn’t having any of it. As he raised, ready to swing, it was ready and swung round instead. It heard our footsteps and knew.

When they attack they don’t make any noise. They’re dead silent until they’re ready to scream for more. This had to end quickly or we were done for.

He reacted fast, but not fast enough as it snapped at his hand. A quick shiny forward as I stood cowering not ready for this. Then it happened, the silence broke and it screamed, we had to move.

I grabbed him, we spun on our heels and ran. The fastest we’ve ever gone and then we saw it. Although it was Night, they flooded out from all over. Doors to buildings we’d never ventured in snapped open, more piled out, hunched over still not making any sounds except their feet tapping away thudding the ground.

We were so close, so close to our building. We couldn’t look back, if we did that was it. It’d all be over.

Busting through that door, slamming shut behind us. It was nearly over, we just had to keep this momentum till we reached our place, number 23.

He started flagging behind, somethings not right I thought. It wasn’t like him, usually he was grabbing my by the hand, dragging me along just so I’d survive too. He’d pulled me out of too many dangers before, but this time it was my turn.

Dragging him to 23, he slips, I move quick under his arm to hoist him up and we huddle to the door.

We can still hear the sounds of the running but it’s too dark to see anything back there. We don’t know if any got in, maybe, but it sounds like they hit a few floors above instead.

We get to 23, here we are. Straight in, door locked behind with all the deadbolts. Nothings getting in, then my husband collapses.

He wakes, I’ve for our gun which we rarely use. The noise has them attracted straight away. I’ve tied him to a chair just to be sure.

It’s been a while but he’s not made any sounds, just like them. If it came to it, I’d have to pull the trigger. Then we’d have silence.


Endless Thoughts (Polaroid)

I’ve just woke up. My eyes, they sting I try not to touch them and just open slowly like a broken camera shutter. I just rub them as I shuffle in the bed. I’m wriggling around and hear a clink, it’s the glass. I pull it out slowly opening my eyes trying to read the red label. It’s Russian, the good stuff. I sit up clasping the bottle and twist the top holding it to my mouth but nothing, not a drop. It’s all gone so I throw it out the bed and wriggle back under the covers annoyed and depressed.

I suddenly hear a noise coming from down the corridor. I’m slowly moving my way out the bed then the crack in the curtain blinds me. I cover my eyes whilst positioning myself for that first foot on the floor. I place it on the ground, something sticks. Lifting my foot it’s a polaroid. Scattered everywhere between the empty bottle of drink and the messy clothes this one stood out, it stuck to me it’s a part of me. I remove it from my foot and just stare. It’s that night. 2009. New years eve. Me and Sarah. I just pause and it’s that moment again. That frozen sensation of not knowing what’s what. I stay perfectly still then gently place the photo on the bedside table. I pull the draw towards me pulling out a half drank bottle of vodka. It’s the cheap stuff but it’ll have to do. I crawl back into the black pit of a bed. that endless depression. I wrap myself in the duvet shaking at the thought. That thought of what happened that night. I twist off the cap and drink. 

The above is an elaborated extract from a screenplay I wrote and recently directed. I’m extremely excited to be working on this and might put the full script/story online at some point or more elaborated extracts. The film is currently in production and shall be released via Vimeo and the ‘Polaroid’ website (currently being made) in the coming months.