Heretics

Dark clouds surrounded me, somber music sifted through my shuffle.
Today doesn't look promising, said a little voice inside my head.
The halls were uncannily quiet. I suppose that's what happens when everyone moves out and leaves for good. I knew I didn't believe in ghosts, but the emptyness of the halls seemed like quiet desperation. Behind doors there was only darkness. No fuzzy rugs, no bright posters, no fluffy pillows, no burgeoning minds. The emptiness surrounded me and sent shivers up my spine, closing in on me, making me want to cry.
I was holding on my last bit of freedom, but the solemnity was almost too much.
The daylight hours were easy enough to get through, but I didn't dare step outside my room as the clouds darkened. It sounded so silly, but in my room, with the door shut, I was safe. No threatening emptiness and desperation. It seemed like it was slithering under my door cracks, and I prayed for ambient noises while I pulled the covers more tightly aound me.
I stared at the door, waiting for the emptiness to attack me, and overtake me with loneliness. Silent goosebumps popped up on my arms, signaling my silent distress.
The voice in my head screamed, "I told you so!" as I silently willed it to shut up, hoping I wouldn't jump out of the fright of my own mind screaming.
Oppressive somberness surrounded me.
Pull the covers in tighter, ignore the silence, fall asleep praying for daylight and avoiding the envelope of somber.
Pull the covers in tighter.

"And then I hear you say: Thank God it's fatal."
~ Heretics by Andrew Bird