i. My mother and father always had a fight. They threw words and plates and vases and cups at each other. They shouted and screamed at the top of their lungs. I was there hiding at the corner under the dining table. I covered by ears with my hands but the noise managed to penetrate. It was like a hundred guns being fired all at once, a bazooka or a bomb. It felt like World War. Their World War. Our World War.
ii. After fights I go lock myself into my room. Put my headphones on and listen to ******* songs at full volume. The music pounded and filled my ears overwhelming me. And sometimes I play vinyl records and CDs so loud my mom would knock so hard at my door and tell me to stop. But I didn’t. It was my only friend. It made me happy. It made me run away to some places I didn’t know even existed - my hiding place.
iii. I grew up with the war. It’s my middle name. In my vocabulary N stands for Normal. It is to me. I woke up every day in the same cycle. Very tiring and numbing. Growing old with the same situation. I got used to it.
iv. Then one day, I met Silence. He made life a whole lot easier for me. He made me oblivious of the war, of the world. And sometimes I just stare and I don’t mind at all. I was just numb and calm and unbelievably happy even if it meant not hearing anything anymore.
v. Silence became my best friend.