FREE ESSAY ON BROKEN SILENCES

BROKEN SILENCES

It was a beautiful day on the open fields of Ireland. A comfortable cottage was the only
item dotting the landscape for at least five miles. The door opened, and out stepped a
young man. He was not too tall, his blonde hair gathered behind him in a ponytail. His
eyes sparkled ever-so-slightly in the morning sun as he stretched with a loud groan. He
strode a few steps from the cottage and looked around. It was a great day out. He was
dressed comfortably in slightly baggy blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and since no one
else was awake, he decided to go for a short walk.
The flat fields seemed to go on forever in all directions, but after a few short minutes
of walking, he arrived at a hill. It was then that he first heard it: A beautiful voice,
which broke the silence. He had never heard anything like it. It sang no words, just
sounds. He had to know where the sound came from. He quickly crested the hill and spotted
the source.
It was a girl of about sixteen years of age. She had lush, auburn tinted hair, wore a
plain white dress that shimmered faintly in the breeze, and was very beautiful, almost
ethereal. She turned to look up at him with her sparkling, teal eyes. She ceased singing
and smiled up at him. 
"Hello there," she said with a thick Irish accent. "Hi," he replied. He walked slowly
down the hill, stumbling slightly on the steep incline. She giggled. "And just who might
you be?" She queried. "I'm Timothy, but people call me Tim," he said, smiling. "Stay
cool, Tim, stay cool," he thought. "Well Tim," she replied, "I'm Fiona. 'Tis a pleasure
to meet you." She extended her hand to him. He shook it, which seemed to surprise her for
a moment. "So what are you doing roamin' the open wilds of Ireland, Tim?" she asked. He
flashed a winning smile. "My family and I are on vacation here." She smiled back. "Then,
perhaps we will see each other again. Goodbye for now, Tim." With that, she walked away.
Tim stood dumbstruck as she vanished over the hill.
He couldn't get her out of his head. After she left, he sat down on the hill and smiled.
She was, quite possibly, the most amazing girl he had ever seen. And, her voice...her
voice was a touch of heaven. Smiling, he began wandering back toward the cottage. 
When he arrived, he could see that most of the family was outside. Cole was leaned
against a small tree, scribbling in a notebook. Sean was keeping the younger siblings
busy playing some game or another; it was probably tag. He could see his mother sitting
in a chair holding the baby. His dad was probably inside. He meandered towards them.
His mother called out as he got close, "Where did you get off to so early?" He looked up
at her. "Uhm, nowhere, Mom. I just went for a walk." "All right," she responded. "Just
leave a note next time, please. We were a little concerned." He didn't even respond; he
just walked inside and flopped down on the couch. His dad sat in a nearby chair reading
the newspaper. "Good mornin'," his dad said, looking up from the paper. "Hey, Dad," Tim
responded. The conversation ended there. 
Tim spent the rest of the day thinking about her. Fiona. The name echoed through his
mind. Fiona. That beautiful voice. It carried with him endlessly. He didn't eat much that
night, but sleep came blessedly quick.
He awoke with a start sometime the next morning, camped out on the floor of the main room
This cabin had only two bedrooms, so the boys had to sleep on the floor. He looked at his
watch; it was 3:00 a.m. He wondered what had awakened him when he heard that voice. Her
voice. He rose from his bed and walked to the door. He stepped out into the night wearing
only sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was chilly out, but he didn't notice or care. He
started walking, following her voice which was echoing in the distance.
She seemed to elude him in these hills; he couldn't catch her. He heard her giggle; she
was playing with him. Suddenly, he felt an urge. He breathed in deep and started to sing
with her. No words, just music. Their voices intertwined to form a harmony that was
almost inhuman; almost heavenly. AS they sang, he began to feel pain. He couldn't
understand it, but it hurt all over. The more they sang, the more wrenching the pain
became, until, at last, he crumpled to the ground. She appeared next to him. "Tim, you
must go home. I will find you when the morning comes. It is dangerous out here at night,"
she whispered. With that, his eyes closed and he saw only darkness. 
When he awoke, it was late morning. All of his family was awake and involved in their
normal, loud, morning activities, and yet he had slept through it. He got up and walked
to the kitchen area and sat down mumbling, "Good mornin'," to everyone there. They each
responded but he wasn't really listening. His mother had set a full breakfast out in
front of him. He nibbled on some toast and drank his orange juice. Then, he got up and
went and sat on the couch. His family looked on with concern, but nobody said anything.
Suddenly, there was a nock at the door. 
Everybody was surprised as Tim sprang from his seat and bounded to the door. "Good
mornin' Tim," came Fiona's voice. Tim perked up. "Hey Fiona!" he said with a big smile.
"Who is it honey?" his mom's voice came from the background. "Just a friend of mine," Tim
replied. "Well, invite her in," said his mom. With those words, the afternoon began.
They spent a good part of the afternoon with Tim's family. Fiona was surprised to learn
that Tim was in a band in his hometown. "I have never heard of Broken Silences before,"
Fiona said. Sean chimed into the conversation, "Really? We are only, like, the biggest
band in the world!" "Sean!" his mother barked. "Sorry," Sean mumbled. The afternoon
continued with a lot of idle chit-chat and several approving glances from Cole, Sean, and
his dad. Then Fiona and Tim told Tim's family that they were going out for a walk.
They strolled through the late afternoon air, smiling and holding hands. They sat down in
the grass and gazed at each other. "Sing me one of your songs, Tim," she asked. He
grinned and began softly singing, "I love you more than anything, than anything, I do,
and I'd give you more than anything, just to be with you. These feelings I hold inside
are emotions I can not hide. These feelings will not subside. I'd do anything..." He sang
through the whole song as she listened and hummed along. "That's a wonderful song," she
sighed. By this time, the sun was setting
"We had better get going," she said, looking a little concerned. "Why?" he smiled. "It
looks like it's going to be a nice night." She sighed, "I want to leave." She looked very
nervous now. "Why?" Tim asked again. "We were having a good time." The sun was setting
fast. "Tim, please, let's go," she said hurriedly. He shrugged and they walked back to
the cottage. There she left him standing on the step as she hurried away over a hill.
Again, he stood there, looking shocked.
The next day came and Tim saw nothing of Fiona. He was very depressed. He thought about
her constantly, ate very little and moped around all day. His parents were concerned, as
were his siblings, but he wasn't really talking to them. Nobody knew what had happened,
but all thought it had to do with Fiona. The day came and went. Night fell.
It was 3:00 a.m. again when he heard the singing and ran out into the night. He ran
through the fields and searched the hills and finally came upon her. Kneeling down in the
grass, she was picking flowers and conversing with an unseen figure. Tim slowly crept
closer and concealed himself himself behind a tree. Out of curiosity, he watched for a
moment, trying to figure out what was going on. 
Fiona pulled a daisy from the ground and, when she did, there was a sudden burst of light
coming from a single petal. A miniscule figure emerged, retaining the glow of the light.
Fiona laughed and said, "Hello, Aquitaine. How are you doing this fine evening?"
Tim watched the scene in quiet amazement. He was waiting for the right time to exit the
shadows and approach Fiona. Now, though, the bright figure fluttered about Fiona's head
for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, but strong, voice. "Being a faerie, its the same as
usual. I'm here to warn you. I'm not sure what these men want, but they're after you."
Fiona gasped and assumed that her friend was speaking of a few men who were out to get
her. Fiona had a secret that only this faerie knew; a secret that could kill. Fiona was a
siren, what was thought, by most, to be a mythical creature which sang out a beautiful
tune to men at sea in order to attract them and kill them. However, Fiona knew what she
was, and it didn't match the stereotype. She sang a beautiful tune though it was only
harmful at night and it was never with purpose to harm. She wanted to make music that
healed, not music that caused pain and eventual death with prolonged listening.
As she was explaining this to her faerie, Fiona heard a loud gasp. Tim stepped out from
the shadows to face her with a look of wide-eyed fright. He spoke vapidly, "Is that what
you're trying to do to me?" Fiona stood up quickly, at a loss for words. "No, Timothy.
I..." She turned quickly to the far side of the filed to see the first of a long trail of
men on horseback, galloping toward her. She grasped Tim's hand in her own. "Come with me.
I'll explain everything as soon as we're out of harm's way. Please. I beg of you."
The look of fear increased in his eyes, but he squeezed her hand and nodded, allowing her
to lead him anywhere she may roam. She tugged on his hand a bit and began to run as fast
as she could through the field. She was headed everywhere at once and wasn't quite sure
what to do with herself or Tim.
A bright trail of light suddenly shot out from behind her pair and seemed to head off in
a definite direction. Fiona eyed Aquitaine for a moment, then, in a moment of
decisiveness, followed behind her. Running faster than normal conditions allowed, Fiona
and Tim raced for an unmarked finish line with an unknown prize. After several run-ins
with branches, roots, and other scattered bits of annoyance in the filed, the duo caught
up with Aquitaine and were tempted to stop under a thick tree to catch their breath, but
they heard the charging horses racing through the field behind them. Quickly, Fiona, Tim,
and Aquitaine fled from the beaten trail and began to trek through the dark forest.
The ground in the forest was thick with decaying remnants of leaves, flowers, branches,
and dead animals. Mushrooms and toadstools flourished near the bases of the tallest trees
and ivy grew up the sides of the smaller trees while the larger trees where awash with
moss. No member of the fleeing trio was familiar with the current surroundings, so they
trudged on carefully, avoiding stepping where they knew they would make noise. Without a
word, they increased their speed as they heard the horses' clomps turn to careful steps
as they entered the forest. 
After asking permission with her eyes, Aquitaine flew up above the trees and caught a
glimpse of a small cave on the other side of the small creek which ran through the center
of the forest. Aquitaine flew back down, whispered the news to Fiona and Tim and, without
a moment of hesitation, they began to run for the cave's opening.
However, the three were not aware that the men had taken to traveling by foot shortly
after one of their horses had become frightened by the density of the forest. Not long
after Tim, Fiona, and Aquitaine abandoned their short rest in order to seek a safe haven,
the men who were after Fiona managed to catch up with her as well as her friends.
As Aquitaine flew over a tree branch, the men caught sight of her and raced toward the
trailing flash. Fiona and Tim were so busy running for their lives that they didn't hear
the men approaching until it was too late. Within seconds, on of the men had a hand on
Aquitaine and had thrown her against the ground where she cried out loudly and promptly
let out her final bit of breath.
Fiona wanted to stop to give final words to her friend, but knew that her life might end
as a result. Because of this, she plunged forth with Tim at her heels, crossed the small
creek quickly and quietly and made it to the cave just before Aquitaine's murderers
rounded a sharp corner in the forest. The pair headed deeper into the cave and lay down
on the damp ground to wait out the troops.
When Tim looked over at Fiona in the single bit of light that came in through a crack in
the cave's walls, she was crying. "Fiona," he spoke softly, the word leaving his lips
like something sacred. She looked up and saw him. Her body looked almost luminescent in
the moonlight. Her dress spilled about her like a mantle of light. He hair hung loose
around her shoulders. In this light she was almost, ghostly. "Fiona, why did you run from
me last night?" he asked. She whispered, barely audible, "Go away, please." "No," he
responded. "I will not go away. Fiona, I think I love you, please tell me what's going
on." She looked into his eyes and answered with a single not. A "C." Tim had forgotten
Fiona's confession earlier in the evening and now his body was wrenched with unbearable
pain, and he fell to the ground. "That is what's the matter," she whispered again, "My
voice is death. Now do you see?" He got up slowly as the pain went away, remembering her
confession in the open field. "I don't care, Fiona. I still love you," he replied. She
was truly amazed to hear this from him. She shook her head, "No Tim, this can never be,
at night my voice brings pain and death to all men. You will die if you stay too close to
me," she whispered. He could feel his body cringe at the sound of her voice. Tim could
think of nothing else to do, so he sang.
"When you have no light to guide you, and no one to walk beside you, I will come to you,
Oh, I will come to you." She had to struggle not to sing with him. When he finished he
said, "If I can not be with you in this life, I swear that when my time comes, I will
come to you. I will remain with you for all time. I love you Fiona, and I always will."
He was crying, as was she. She whispered softly, "I love you Tim." They embraced. She was
like air, like kissing air. Then Tim turned and slowly walked away.
They would not see each other for a long time after that. As he left, once she was sure
he was gone, she screamed. A terrible wail of true pain filled the air. It was all she
could do. He was gone, but she would remember him.
Tim went back home after that, and went back to the grindstone. He thought of her a lot.
She thought of him constantly, and every night she wailed out the pain of losing him. Far
away from her, Tim sang softly to himself: the tune which he had first heard her singing.
They repeated this medley for many nights...until their paths crossed again.
(I got a 96 on this short story, and my teacher was EXTREMELY strict at grading stuff.)