Noise

He was leaning against the cool, paneled wall – his eyes closed, and head tilted back. His breathing came out slow and deep. His chest rose steadily as air gently escaped through his parted, full lips. To someone else, he looked to have fallen asleep, but Jonathan was wide awake. His eyes darted beneath his eyelids as images raced across his mind. A slender hand in his, the curve of a bottom lip, the bright green of a grassy field, a lone mitten in the snow, light freckles on a tanned shoulder. He gritted his teeth and attempted to focus on the darkness beneath his eyelids and the silence that enveloped him in the empty hallway.

But he had forgotten how loud silence could be. A droning noise reached his ears, and the harder he tried to ignore it, the louder it became. It was ceaseless against his mind, like someone tapping furiously against glass; it was beginning to break whatever had kept him intact over the past months. He squeezed his eyes shut even harder, furrowing his face into a grimace as he balled up his hands and tried to concentrate. But the sound didn't stop. It increased in tempo and began to reverberate throughout Jonathan's entire frame. His hands were curled so tightly that white crescent marks were forming into his palm where he had been digging his nails so roughly into. He brought his clenched hands up to his face and slowly trembled. Through gritted teeth he whispered, "Stop, please stop." His pleas met no relief however.

Instead, he thought back to the images and back to Camille. Desperately he tried to focus on something, anything, to get his mind off whatever noise that was consuming the silence. Her eyes. What color had they been? Suddenly a wave of panic washed over his quivering body. His eyes opened wildly when he realized – he could not remember. Green? Brown? Blue? His hands began to sweat, as he tangled his fingers though his messy hair. He should know this – he had to know this. The only way of keeping Camille alive, was through him. And if he couldn't remember the color of her eyes – she might as well have truly --

Gray.

Her eyes – they had been a misty shade of gray, that reflected flecks of gold in the sunlight. He sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall again, closing his eyes slowly. He breathed in and allowed himself to relax again. He was able to take all of the sounds around him – the ringing of a telephone, cars honking, a breeze through bare branches, footsteps coming down the hallway, and that ceaseless ticking sound. It wasn't consuming him like before, but he had yet to figure out what it was.

Then, like a warm breeze passing over his mind, allowing clarity, Jonathan slowly opened his eyes and stared out to an non descript corner of the hallway.

It had been the beating of his heart.

Author's Note

Although I put this under "story" - it's more like a passage from a chapter of a book. So please excuse how open-ended it is. I'm thinking of turning this character, etc. into a full-fledged story...still have yet to decide.

Reviews

[Enigma]

Turning it into a full-fledged story is a great idea.I really liked this part and will surely be reading the 'story'.
The above 'passage' is awesome!! While reading, I didn't realise that I was sitting on a chair, staring into the monitor...not even once.Rather I was looking at Jonathan...
Superbly written!!