Between the Lines

If You See Kay

Silence. One word. One simple noun. And yet, this measly seven letter word meant and saw more than Danny could ever know.

During times of silence, he was able to connect with the world. He was able to look around and actually see what was in front of him. Every little detail, thought, feeling, and action. Every water droplet running down the skies, every sound that drifted through these Dublin winds, every family that walked down these streets, every act of love, hatred, and pain towards everyone. Everything. It was like there was one giant rope that broke off into smaller, interconnected ones, surfacing through the whole planet, wrapping around every tree, cloud, person, and feeling, before eventually meeting up again into that one whole string and Danny was somehow connected with that string, the line that just held everything together. He honestly felt like he was one with all that was around him which led him to write many, many songs. It was too easy for him sometimes. It was like everything that surrounded him in this world had taken time out of their lives to…lend him their words. To give him the chance to show everyone else what he was able to see during those times of silence. It was…absolutely incredible.

But during those other bouts of silence… Oh God, how Danny absolutely despised those other days he had. Those were the days when everything on this goddamn planet was so damn unwelcoming to him. He was completely shut out and left to deal with the havoc that was crackling around within. He was forced to just sit there in his own unresolved world, unable to leave. Unable to connect with anyone else from the outside, stuck within himself and it was a fuckin’ nightmare. It didn’t even seem remotely possible, right? To be trapped within yourself? Within the confinements of every regret, every doubt, and every fear that once touched your mind? He didn’t know how it was, but he just couldn’t seem to find any escape from his own mind, his own self. That was the scariest part for him: to think that you were in complete control of one thing, but to realize that in actuality, you held no control over it at all. Danny's mind was a frightening depth of darkness that he never really wanted to get into, and he hoped no one else on this damn planet would either.

Right now, he wasn’t sure which silence he was going towards. He was teetering along the fine line between the two and was literally praying that it wouldn’t be the latter. He really couldn’t stand a day of the other silence. It was too much for Danny to handle.

He sat down at the end of his kitchen table with his hands interlocked above the gorgeous mahogany. The several chairs were a matching set as well. The aesthetics of his flat was what you would call stylish or modernized. However, what they didn’t mention about style or renovation was that it was fuckin’ uncomfortable to live with. He shifted his weight on his bum, feeling like the wooden seats were sticking pins through his own skin. He needed to cushion these chairs.

Danny certainly missed the old flat he had before. The table that used to live there was characteristically old with the sides scratched up and worn down. There were ring stains along the whole area of the table from the amount of times he refused to use a coaster for his cup of tea. The chairs, though. None of the chairs matched since they were all ones that he had found abandoned on the streets of Dublin at random times. He had given them a home and they had replied gratefully with comfort for his bum. He thought that was the greatest part of it all. Nothing matched, but everything still fit together perfectly. But now in this flat, everything matched, but nothing seemed to…fit. Hell, even he didn’t fit into this place. 

Glancing out the window before him, the sun was at its peak, signaling that it was the middle of the day. Everything was on full-speed. People were walking by, biking by, or driving by, hurrying to get to where they needed to go. This was a time when no one paid attention to anyone. When everyone was wrapped up in their own little bubble. Danny then peered closer to see that someone right outside his window was having a little trouble in his own. He was pacing back and forth, chewing on his fingernails with a frantic look playing in his eyes: all signs of distress. Danny frowned at the mere sight. He recognized the young lad all too well. Michael. He was his young neighbor, around 18 or 19 years old. How could a lad his age have such a distraught look on his face?