Silence

He pulled my paper bag off and pulled me in for a kiss. I wasn't sure what to think, so I just kissed back without thinking.

The first time I laid eyes on him I was scared and alone, I was panicked, crawling on the floor praying not to be seen by anyone, I turned around out of instinct and there he was, standing above me, a comforting smile on his face, he pulled me to my feet and turned his head to the side, clearly perplexed by the bag on my head, I wondered if I should say anything, but I didn't, neither did he.

He guided me through the pub, holding my hand and pointing out people arguing over silly things, though no sound left his lips I could tell he was laughing.

We never spoke a word to each other. I never heard his voice. He never heard mine. Yet there was a strange chemistry in the air, it's almost like a feeling that locked us in place, to the point that no words needed to be shared between us, we just understood each other.

I could tell he thought I looked better without the bag on, I wore, and still wear it anyway, I'm not proud of my face. He seemed enraptured every time he saw my face, he stared at me, pulled me in, held me close and never let go.

We didn't interact that much in public, we both seemed to understand that others often make fun of these sorts of feelings, especially in public, they'd all surely ridicule us if we sat with each other, hugged and cuddled there on the carpet as we waited for new rounds to begin, we understood their feelings, so we chose not to provoke them.

He held my hand as we walked along the beach, we arrived at a small campfire that neither of us built, I sat down on a small log and he stood staring at the campfire.

Then he approached me and got down to my level, he turned his head for a little bit, as if examining something he'd never seen before. He pulled my paper bag off and pulled me in for a kiss. I wasn't sure what to think, so I just kissed back without thinking. I enjoyed the kiss, it was my first, and I figured he could tell because I wasn't very good at it. I never thought us a gay couple until that moment. The rest of that day was spent with him, visiting various places and staring at areas I've never seen. When the day ended and my head rested on my pillow. The things we'd do, the places we'd go, all of it, I couldn't bear to wait for.

I awoke that day, the day it all went wrong, the day things changed to me.

I looked around, trying to find him, no matter where I went he just wasn't there. I sat at a table in the pub, I knew he'd come there, he always did. So I waited.

And waited.

And waited..

And waited…

I woke up hours later with my head pressed against a table, I pulled myself up and looked around, surely he was there by now right? He was probably right around the corner, sitting at a mirror, waiting for me… no… he wasn't there… Where could he have gone? My mind began to race.

He's probably fine.

Maybe he's just sick?

What if something happened to him?

What if he's hurt, or worse?

What if he forgot about me?

What if he hates me?

What if this was all a joke designed to hurt me?

I began to panic, I fell to the floor, gripped my paper bag, I turned around multiple times praying he'd be just behind me, giving me that warm comfortable smile that gave me reassurance anytime he could tell I was stressed, I scratched my nails against the floor, slammed my head against the walls, I tried to scream but the choking urge to remain silent kept the audible pain from pouring out of my lungs. I collapsed to the floor, and prayed I would never wake up.

The beeping of a heart monitor and the buzzing of the light above me is what woke me. I sat up and looked around, I was clearly in a hospital, I turned to my left and saw my bag on the bedside table next to me, I put it on and waited.

Eventually a nurse walked in, gave me a polite smile, and sat down with a clipboard, "Hello." She said, staring at me patiently, I gave her a small wave, "Could you tell me your name, sweetie?" I shook my head, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, then wrote down something simple, 'I don't talk. My name is Skull.' She nodded, "Alright Skull, it's fine if you don't want to talk, but keep that paper handy, we have a lot of things to talk about."

About a day later I walked out of the hospital, downed two small pills, and began the walk to my home. I climb down the ladder into my comfy little hideout, closing the trapdoor above me. Thinking my little thoughts.

No one knows about this place.

Good I don't want anything to do with people anymore.

But what if he comes looking for me?

I downed two more pills and splashed water from a small tub onto my face.

He isn't coming back.

This is the safest place for me. This is home.

I laid back on the bed, pulled the blankets over myself, and fell asleep.