Curse of silence, p.11
Curse of Silence, page 11
Realizing this wasn’t a dream, Remy grew more and more terrified that something had gone wrong with the world, that she had entered an alternative realm where everyone was controlled by some sort of invisible being.
She became even more horrified as she witnessed her mother turning on the television, the voices on the screen gone, replaced by actors simply typing their conversations.
Their messages were then received by the phones of those who had connected with the program, carrying on as if nothing had changed. Her mother didn’t seem to notice the oddity of the situation either, reading from her phone the entire time the television stayed on.
How can they live like this? This is not normal! Who the hell watches television shows on their phones when the freaking TV is sitting right in front of them? How can people be two inches away from each other and still only communicate through a fucking phone?
Infuriated, she stormed out of her home, just to face the strange world that surrounded her. People were walking the streets, sitting, sleeping, all on their phones. Strangers, friends, partners, children, all on their phones. Not a single laugh, cry, or whisper to be heard. To the blind, this town might as well be a ghost town, not like it’s any different from a world full of corpses anyway.
She continued walking, cautious not to bump into anyone as she feared they might combust or explode. She reached a tall glass building, with full intent on demanding answers on what’s happening. Someone would explain to her how the world ended up like this.
“Hello,” Remy smiled at the receptionist, hiding her disdain when the woman refused to look up at her. “I would like to speak to you about something. I have questions, and I know you have answers.”
The woman didn’t respond, not even looking up. She simply texted on her phone that was in front of her, and suddenly, Remy felt something vibrate inside the pocket of a coat she stole from her mother’s closet.
What? she thought. I don’t have a phone.
Suddenly, she remembered that she never returned the phone that she had taken from the airport. Now, not only was she stranded in a strange world, she would also be branded as a thief. Overwhelmed with guilt but also frustrated by the untold pattern, she sighed and looked down. As expected, a response from the woman stared her right in the face.
What are you doing? Stop speaking, and text. We don’t speak, not anymore, not since... — Aubrey
Refusing to acknowledge her claim that speaking wasn’t allowed, just like she refused to accept it when her mother had warned her, she shook her head and looked at the woman again, forcing a smile on her face.
“Look, miss. Can I call you that? I’ve been out of touch, for quite a long, long time. I’ve been alone for the past twenty-six years in Troft; I can show you the scars I got from being mauled by a vicious lynx if you want. I have no idea what’s going on. All of this is making me crazy. Please, just explain to me what’s happening, if you don’t mind. Even my own mother refuses to tell me what’s going on,” Remy said, her tone barely holding her scorn. “So, I would like some explanation as to what is going on, especially from the fucking Boulder Inquirer! Please!”
Again, refusing to respond with her vocals, Aubrey sent another message. People inside the building were starting to look at Remy and observe her rebellious behavior. Some of them started to take videos of her while she hysterically shouted nonsense. They were afraid for what would happen to her if she continued, for what would happen to them if they didn’t do anything to stop her.
I cannot speak. No one can speak. Please stop speaking. — Aubrey
Sighing explosively, Remy stormed out of the building, snarling and almost screaming. No one spoke, and it was frustrating her more. She didn’t want to live in a world like this; she refused to live in a world like this. The place she was in was no different than where she came from.
Growing desperate, she walked over to the police station. As she went, she noticed a young couple snuggling beside each other on a park bench, again, only using words that could be found on their little devices, texting their conversations to each other.
Remy wanted to rip her hair out. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and cry, shout hateful words to everyone involved if the world was playing some sick joke on her.
“Somebody speak!” she yelled as she marched over to the couple and ripped their phones out from their hands. “Speak, idiots! Just fucking talk to each other! You’re right next to each other for fuck’s sake. Just talk to each other!”
The couple stared at her as if she was out of her mind. With a blink, they quickly stood up and ran away. Remy saw their reaction, and she became aware of what she was doing.
By this point, Remy could feel herself becoming insane, the sole psychopath wandering this new world and telling everyone to speak. She was the idiot now. Everyone else was normal in this world.
The world wasn’t meant to be so silent. It wasn’t what she saw on the tapes. The world used to be lively; everyone was engaged in fruitful conversations. The world used to be colorful. All her dreams of connection and running grass between her toes had flushed away.
Texting was a lazy man’s way of communicating when they wanted something but were too lazy to open their mouths to get it. She felt surrounded by a communication style she never really understood, everyone around her forcing her to abide by it. Never in her life had Remy felt such confusion. She expected that at some point in her life, she would be alive to see a dystopian world, but this was much more than she expected.
This was a nightmare, a horror movie that personified straight from her biggest fear. She was supposed to come home from Troft to tears and long nights of staying awake with her mother, sharing her stories of everything that had happened in Troft as well as everything she had missed out on over the past decades. Never did she imagine coming home to an aloof mother who was obsessed with her phone.
Jesus Christ, she’s in her 60s! Why is she still texting like her life depends on it?
It’s as if people were now basing their lives on the next text message. People were crossing the streets while reading whether it was safe on their phones, as if the traffic lights were texting them. People were driving with their hands off the wheel, the cars somehow managing to navigate on their own.
People were behaving recklessly, yet the world was still functioning. Was this the new age? Was Remy the only one who could not get on board with this? The only accidents that seemed to be happening were suicides from what these people were reading online, if they could even be called “suicides.”
The world was so turned around that Remy no longer knew whether she belonged in it. She clearly couldn’t cope with the change, and it didn’t seem likely that she was going to get her way any time soon. Was she just supposed to accept it and move on? Is her being the only sane one left a sign that she needed to fix this?
Throbbing pain in her head waited to detonate as she rushed over to the police station and tried to speak with someone normal.
“Hi.” Once again, she tried to talk to a policeman that was sitting behind the desk. “I’m Remy. I just moved here from Troft and have no idea what’s going on or what I’m looking at. Can I ask you a few questions?”
The man didn’t reply, and within seconds, she felt the phone in her pocket vibrate again. Remy groaned, looking at the phone and message she just received.
Lady, I don’t care where you’ve been or where you came from. You need to stop speaking. If you don’t, I’m afraid I may have to seize and detain you. Trust me, you don’t want that to happen. Please leave. — Officer Andrew
Remy could have simply texted back in another attempt to get a response, but she wasn’t about to give into this nightmare she was living in. She was determined to find someone who would speak to her, and actually speak, not pretend to and turn to their phones. Despite her hopeful efforts, she was ignored by person after person, all either ignoring her or fearing her.
Not only did they refuse to speak to her and answer her questions, but they also ran away from her whenever she was about to open her mouth.
“Please just answer me!”
Officer Andrew became frustrated with Remy’s behavior, and he immediately grabbed her by the arm and pushed her out of the station, dumping her on the steps. Remy cursed as she felt the sting from his hard grip.
Why? Why should I stop speaking? That isn’t right. Why can’t everyone else just speak instead? Why should I have to live under the rule of texting when everyone else should be living under the rule of speaking? Why should I have to waste my time texting my coffee order when speaking would be so much faster? Why did the world suddenly become so dark, so pathetic that I can hardly believe that this is the same world I had been so anxious to leave Troft to come to? This has to be some kind of Machiavellian dictatorship. What else could explain this?
Shaking her head, she decided to try the local hospital. Maybe they had seen a slew of damaged brains come by that could explain the situation. Walking up to the receptionist and hoping to hear the sound of a voice, she was met with another text message in its place.
Ma’am, you’re not supposed to speak. I don’t care who you are or how long you’ve been away from the world, but speaking is something that is not allowed here. You can get us all in trouble. Please, I’m asking you to leave. — Nurse Maurice
People in the hospital were moving away from Remy, like what had happened to her earlier this morning. Some patients nearby turned on their cameras and began filming her. She noticed this and gave them a glare.
“What is wrong with you?” she yelled as one of the security guards walked toward her.
Remy’s instinct kicked in, and she bolted out the emergency door.
She was fed up. If people were going to be stubborn, then so was she. She refused to break and give into their warnings, despite how ominous they seemed. She was going to continue asking questions, pestering those around her, until she got an answer.
However, person after person, she continued to be ignored, even by the military guards sheltering the borders of the country.
No one wanted anything to do with her, a feeling that tore her apart much more than anything in Troft had done to her. It was almost as if her life would have been better if she stayed. At least the wolves spoke to her. This world made her feel like she was being victimized like a nerdy child in middle school.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated.
I’ve been observing you for quite awhile now. Stop what you’re doing. If you continue speaking, you will die. Don’t ask questions; don’t talk to anyone. I’m warning you. — Damon
Confused and terrified, Remy peered around her.
Who the hell is Damon, and why is he texting me?
Her eyes automatically scanned the street corners, but no one was around except for garbage cans and street lights.
Is he a stalker? Is this what the cop was saying earlier? Is this my potential fate?
She stared at the phone’s screen. Nothing made any sense to her anymore; the mysterious message definitely sent her over the edge.
“This is ridiculous,” Remy sighed as she shoved her phone into her pocket and walked away.
***
Behind her, lurking in the alley, Damon watched from afar.
You have to save the world from Liliana. You just have to. — Damon
However, before he could bring himself to press send, he immediately deleted it and walked the other way.
Chapter Fourteen
Yin Suzuki
2010
Remy knew a lot had changed; a lot had gone wrong in the world. She expected this country to be different than the isolated island she had been living in, but this? This science fiction post-apocalyptic world she had just stumbled into? There was no way she survived hell in Troft just to come home to this.
She had to try and fix this, find out exactly what went wrong with this world and change it. This modern world wasn’t meant to be silent. It was meant to be filled with tears and laughter, not emotionless creatures who now expressed their emotions through emojis.
What happened to all the children laughing on the playground, running around and having fun after school? What happened to all the hipsters chatting away on their phones while sitting in front of coffee shops? What happened to all the elders yelling at teenagers to get a job and stop vandalizing the streets? Thoughts continued to roam through Remy’s mind as she sat on a bench, staring at the empty street.
Sure, those days seemed chaotic, but they were much better than this world, devoid of everything, turning everyone into mindless puppets of one divine machine, controlling their every movement. It was all a magician’s spell that they were unable to break out of.
Life was supposed to be about the sharing of stories and adventures through voice. People shouldn’t have to read about the personal lives of those close to them like an open book; these were called “personal conversations” for a reason.
Yes, there was evil in this world, sociopaths who liked to turn every positive situation negative and manipulative, but no one should have to give into this dictator that had taken over their lives and expressions.
Remy used to believe that in life, all the positives always found a way to balance out the negatives, creating a perfect equilibrium where humans were able to tolerate life without killing themselves.
However, right now, she wasn’t so sure anymore. The negativities had been multiplying with no end in sight, bringing humanity to a lost cause that she wondered if it would ever climb back up again.
With life as it stood now, it seemed impossible for the world to balance itself out again, at least, not as long as people continued to refrain from vocalizing.
It wasn’t like freedom of speech had been abolished. People just refused to take advantage of the First Amendment, using the Internet as their outlet for rights instead, and hiding behind screens as they insulted and bullied others, trolling them because they know people aren’t able to interact with them physically.
This world was so populated, yet everyone seemed so distant and far apart, almost like they were each living in their own worlds.
Remy was beginning to feel like a hopeless case. She didn’t want to go home because her mother didn’t feel like her mother, and she didn’t want to go back to Troft despite how terrible living in Colorado was. The mother she knew back in Troft was different from the one she met. She felt like they were different people. Her mother used to be so full of warmth and love; the woman she knew now was cold and distant.
***
Over the next several days, Remy found herself losing faith in humanity. Her energy and motivation to get people to speak was beginning to drain. She started speaking less and less and using her phone more and more to get through life.
One day, she found herself at a coffee café, ordering a latte through her phone. She picked a spot in the corner where she didn’t have to look at the monstrosity people had become and began to write about the horrors in her journal.
It’s been almost three weeks since I came to this country. So far, I have only been able to hear my own voice. What a tragedy. Maybe I should’ve never come. Maybe I should’ve drowned in the Caribbean when I had the chance.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated.
Don’t turn around. Pretend like nothing happened. The message read.
“What is happening?” Remy whispered to herself, afraid to turn around in case someone had a gun to her head.
Trembling and shaking, she proceeded to type a response when another message popped up.
My name is Yin Suzuki, and I’ve been following you. — Yin
At least it’s not Damon, Remy sighed in relief as the phone continued to vibrate on the table.
I know you don’t belong here. I know you’ve been somewhere far, far away up until now. You’re different. I can sense it. You don’t know me, but I know a lot about you, and I know that you can help me, help all of us. We all used to be someone else, someone different than the people we are now. You thought you were leaving Hell to come to paradise, but what you don’t know, is that you just walked right into the land of someone very dangerous.
Remy’s eyes widened in shock. How could a stranger know so much about her, especially since she had been away for so long?
Did she see me in Troft? Did she know Mom? And what kind of name is Yin?
What are you talking about? How do you know me? I swear, if you’re a stalker, I’m going to kill you. — Remy
But the message continued.
I know you want to know what’s going on. To truly understand, we need to go back several decades. Our country, our world, used to be like the nation you imagined, full of life, laughter, communication, and connection. However, back in 1939, it changed forever under the control of Liliana Watson, the great dictator and queen. The story of Liliana was a strange one, a young child locked up and confined for years because she was different. — Yin
I don’t understand. This is nonsense. There’s no way one girl can be the cause of all this. This doesn’t make any sense! Did Damon put you up to this? Are you trying to threaten me? — Remy
The creation of technology only made it worse. Markets crashed, and mass anarchy took over. People refused to accept what was happening, but the more they tried to rebel, the more Liliana fought back, destroying the nonbelievers. Soon, everyone began to rely on phones to communicate. When that happened, everyone lost their will to fight. — Yin
Well, why didn’t you try to fight? You seem to know a lot about her already. There has to be a way to defeat her. I know there is. — Remy
We tried. For years, the citizens tried to fight against Liliana, never giving up even as they fell to their deaths. However, since the phone, Apt, was invented, people began to lose their motivation, living comfortably behind their own screens and refusing to risk their lives for the greater good of humanity. They grew tired and fearful of trying to be heroes, always losing. Instead, now we all choose to live in silence. — Yin
