Silent Hill {Edison}

Husband narrates the dark reading of 'Silent-Hill' shared with his wife in Edison (Jersey) for an Earthling 'cleats' of stranger medicine.

Silent Hill franchise adaptation/fanfiction. Hope you like, 

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It had been 3 entire years since Mary and I had been mourning the death of our unborn child in our otherwise idyllic Earth (American Homeland) small town of Edison (Jersey). We had to consent to an abortion because of pregnancy-complications that rendered Mary's body-and-life vulnerable to a forced birthing procedure, and how we wanted to transcend that hell was simply Selfie-like (ok).

MARY: I had this weird dream image we were teleported inside Silent Hill.

ME: Silent Hill, Mary?

MARY: You know that weird freak dead-zone place in the video-games.

ME: I know there's a couple of movies with that title, me thinks.

MARY: Yeah, yeah...well, they're based on video-games or something.

ME: How'd you hear/see of it (without me)?

MARY: My office coworker (Ralph) showed it to me on his computer (ok).

ME: Facebook-like?

Why'd Mary have this bizarre Silent-Hill image in her mourning brain in Edison? I had to wonder/ask. We decided to start seeing a specialist (therapist) and confided in her we (as Catholic-Americans of Jersey) sought some Rationalism out of that Tree of Knowledge dead-zone mess and were told in confidence to indulge in the vision for catharsis (private!) and perhaps try to whisper the images to each other in bed pre-sleep. We decided first to visit the local cemetery, to feel collected/harnessed (Selfie-like!).

I didn't want my beloved to become part of some media or video-game haunting street-lore immersion for drowning. Maybe Mary and I were drinking too much. We took the therapist's advice and sought restorations of our normal/overground everyday American culture and social media rhetoric for the Ego.

MARY: Where are we, hubby?

ME: Inside Silent Hill, of course.

MARY: You know of it (I thought you were ignorant)?

ME: I looked it up, Mary (damn).

MARY: Why're we having/sharing the same dream-sleep image (here)?

ME: Maybe this is some spirit-invocation, like the therapist implied, hon.

MARY: We're to wander around, look for life-cues (or clues?).

ME: Why not (Facebook-like)?

THERAPIST: Then, you wandered into an abandoned church?

ME: There was a crucified woman-angel lady, some eerie-nun like specter.

THERAPIST: She was singing something about the tragedy of your child.

ME: She surely was, and Mary/I had the same exact vision (mostly!).

THERAPIST: This Silent Hill place (like in media) was a ghost-Edison town?

ME: Very much like it, and me thinks this was Rationalism escape (no?).

THERAPIST: Maybe you've found some line about the hellmouth(s) of fear.

ME: Isn't that the Silent Hill media, huh?

THERAPIST: Continue to explore the tree-arms of fleshy-helmets.
ME: Klonopin wouldn't hurt either (Selfie-like).

THERAPIST: Good (Facebook-like).

We emerged (returned/restored) from our Silent Hill 'misadventure' as awakened Earthlings of Edison (American Homeland). We vowed to keep this in confidence matter. We promised each other to look for alternatives to indulging in that cinema/game expression of outright darkness for mourning or secret-angst (for the Ego!). I got Mary a toy-gun for Xmas, to remind ourselves that toylands invoke precisely what they infer; they keep us safe from the eternal-silence of forced end-zones (for leviathan/uncertainty)>

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)