It's not the noise.
The incessant noise.
The screams.
It's not the shrieks that keep me awake at night. Those are the sounds of life- of the fight. A tortured fight, true, but a fight. I can hear their gasps, their cries, their moans of pain. But I know when they return to their cells at night, they are thankful to be alive.
It's the silence that scares me. It's the silence that wakes me. It's the silence that pounds in my ears.
The fight is over.
The silence means death has won.
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