Museum “Sounds in the Night”

“I heard sounds in the night, and I am waiting for them to pass. There are such vivid noises around here, such remarkably7 clear tones that you would think would carry for miles, but it seems like we are the only ones who hear it.

As time has passed, the strange noises in the night have almost become therapeutic to me, and there are times during winter when the sounds are something that I miss, unable to keep the window open, though sometimes I would sit on the porch until the cold would drive me away.

All people get used to it, and perhaps even grow to love the way the place where you live lives and calls out.

But I have lost that as of late.

Because I have heard sounds in the night, terrible, awful things, mingling in with the tones of the dogs barking and cars speeding past. I try to focus on those sounds instead, but that can only last so long, especially as the sounds have gotten closer and closer.

Every night the sounds, its calls, get louder and louder. Sometimes I think it is reacting to the sounds of cars, and sometimes to the sounds of traffic and the wind through the trees. I can understand that much. The sound of the winds through the trees as the hours pass at night is something I love so very very much.

But sometimes when it calls out, it isn't in reaction to something, but instead an emanation from within itself. There will be a chittering, or a hissing, but that sound never last long. There will be a shriek of pain or surprise, but that doesn't last long either. Eventually there is a silence that sits, almost like the world is reacting to it.

And when it calls, oh when it calls, it is like something out of hell. And I know better than anyone, better than my friends and what family I have left, I know that this is all most of all an ac5t, put on just for me. It kills something small, though I have heard that sometimes something bigger goes missing, and I have tried to convince people that I have heard something real.

I have even recorded it, but whenever I play it, it sounds like the sound of a train passing and not the strange, awful din that...

I am shaking.

I can't stop trembling, even during the day.

Because every night I hear that sound, and every night it is getting closer.”

The woman came to me directly with this, knocked on my office door like she was trying to break it down. As I talked to her, I recorded whet she was telling me. By the end of it she was a wailing mess, and I had to sit with her for a while, rubbing her back and just doing what I could to calm her down.

I listened to the recordings, and she says that she just can't seem to convince anyone.

But I wasn't going to tell her that she must be wrong, that there must be another explanation. Not on a street such as this. And not when I heard a sound as she played the recording, and I think hell just might be the only word I could use to describe it.

For some reason the woman's account made me think about my mother. My mom used to talk about the sounds at night, about the way the rain sounds and the ground smells after it gets damp and the worms rise to the surface. When I think on it, it makes me wonder if my dad did the little sit ins when it rained...if he did it because it connected to me, or if he did it because it connected to her.

I am sure it is maybe a little bit of both. It is hard to look at everything that is going on with me and not feel reminded of my mother. My mom used to be sick a lot, and sometimes we joked that she would need a note from her daughter to let her work know that it was serious.

Gods I miss her, especially lately.

The separation between me and my dad ever since the costume incident has been hard to improve. He seems determined to not admit that what he did was something he should of discussed with me, and when I linger on that it reminds me that this is a decision in a long line of decisions where a choice was made for me, without my consent.

I think that may be why I am so reticent to reach out and rely on others. It feels like the moment I let go of control, the moment I put my joy or my pain in the hands of another person, I run the risk of them letting me down. If it is all in my hands, then I can measure my own enthusiasm. Whether a plan succeeds or fails, whether I am happy or sad, rest upon me and me alone.

And yet this thing with dad still gets to me, even though I know there are so many other things that need my attention. I try to distract myself, but then there will be a comment he will make, or a thing he will exclude me from, that makes it feel like there is no healing to be had.

It will get better. I am not stupid. One day he will break or I will, and things will get patched up.

But I think about my mom, and I remember how they used to fight. My mom lacked a tolerance of anyone trying to pull one over on her, of someone trying to tell her what reality was, or claiming that she didn't really know what she was talking about. And that sort of attitude I thought was so stupid when I was little.

I believed in letting things go, and that it was better to let arguments pass over than to stand on my principles, even as it damaged the people around me.

Maybe if I acted more like my mom, my dad wouldn't have thought that it was okay to destroy the costume I worked so hard on. Or maybe he would have anyway.

It has not been raining lately, and when it does I am usually asleep before it happens. I feel so separated from myself lately, and I know that it means I need to do a better job taking care of myself. I do not want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and leave myself vulnerable.

And I don't want to make you worry.

I am glad to hear your finals went well. You worked really hard, and I know you deserved to do well. I would like to be able to celebrate in person, if your know what I mean. Maybe I can find time to come out your ways, find a lull in my responsibilities and simply pack up and head out to you.

I could use a vacation lol.

Let me know what you think. We have struggled so far to make it happen, and I know if I put the planning in my court that I can find a way to come and see you.

Lots of love, and all my affection.

Niomi.