Well, about a week ago my dad was gone and it was nighttime. I had my earbuds in and was listening to music. I thought I heard something so I took them out and listened. I heard a male voice, flipped sh*t and ran outside. I sat on the porch for about an hour. And within that hour, I heard footsteps, and music from a house across the street. I don’t know the people but know there are no teens, so no blaring music. I also could hear traffic. I was playing a game, almost. Guessing which direction a car would come from. I got every one right.
When I went inside, just after I shut the door my dad pulled in the driveway. I laughed, (not feeling very myself at the time,) and said ‘your too late’

since then, I suppose I HAVE been acting weird. Two days later my dad asked if I was okay, saying that I was in fact acting strange. Like at therapy I heard a cell phone ring. Somehow I knew it was outside, like somebody’s on the sidewalk. Then today I was at a friends and heard windchimes. I looked out the window and across the street and the house had windchimes.

I’ve been feeling weird now and then just feel..different.

And before you say drugs, no. I am 13, I don’t do that.

The sound of scilence, empty and cold
The sound of waves, crashing to the shore
The sound of trees, swaying in the wind
The sound of birds, whistling in the trees
The sound of Monkeys howling, and lions roaring
The sound of man, the first words spoken
The sound of woman, the first to each other
The sound of shame, footsteps in the distance
The sound of building, trees falling and the frist destruction
The sound of community, as we first band together
The sound of cities, trade and languages of foreign tongues
The sound of Blacksmiths hammering and church bells ringing
The sound of trumpets, castles and kings, as they stood over the land
The sound of chaos, as war and anarchy ravaged the land
The sound of sails flapping in the wind.
The sound of Creativity and ingenuity
The sound of fading darkness, as art and science prevailed
The sound of music, as the notes dreamed from the composer’s mind came to being.
The sound of death, as disease ravaged the land
The sound of slavery, as one man put himself over another
The sound of slaughter. Those who don’t have what they want, take it
The sound of revolt. As rebellion and freedom came to be.
The sound of horses along cobblestone paths.
The sound of picks against rocks, and coughing workers
The sound of factories, steel on steel, and many men talking.
The sound of radios, one voice leading the world
The sound of motors, out with the old, and in with the new
The sound of television, flickering to life
The sound of bombs and gunfire, as lives are taken by the thousands
The sound of guitars strumming and drums drumming, opposing the death.
The sound of speakers, microphones and recording equipment, spreading the noise to every house and car in the world
The sound of cars, backed up in city streets.
The sound of phones ringing.
The sound of Lies and deceit, corruption and misinformation
The sound of hurt, as the world screams in agony
The sound of the oppressed, the broken and beaten,and the sound of those who want to return to science

I don’t care if you like it, love it, hate it or just stopped reading half way through, I just want to hear why.
If you didn’t catch it, the sound of hurt is 9/11

This is the first two pages of it. It starts more into the story then goes back to the start.

I smelt smoke. Thick smoke. Like a heavy blanket over my face. It was hard to breathe. It was like my lungs had been compressed and no air was getting in. Like a vacuum.
I couldn’t see either. A blindfold? Eternal blackness. Forever night. I was scared. I didn’t even know this man yet he had kidnapped me and knocked me out. What did he want with me. Surely if he had wanted to kill me he would have done it by now. Unless he was waiting for something. Perhaps I was just bait. For something or someone bigger. Better. He was sinister and cunning. Yet fast and strong. Inhumanly strong. It was impossible. I didn’t know how he did it. I didn’t believe what he had told me. How could I? It was insane. He was insane to think that anyone could actually believe it. No average person would believe it. In fact I was starting to wander why someone hadn’t previously noticed how strange he was and sent him to a mental hospital. Maybe he had murdered them for knowing and know that I knew, once he had used me for whatever purpose, he would kill me. Or maybe my purpose was to be killed. Maybe I was a sacrifice to the gods. Why me though? Why did he kidnap me? Why would he want me to be bait or a sacrifice or anything else? Had he thought that Jordan and I was a couple? I wasn’t even sure if we were. I suppose it might seem like it. Him carrying me and all. He would have been better off choosing to kidnap Claire. She is his so called sister after all. They definitely had a relationship. Even if they didn’t seem anything like each other. He was sweet and caring, she was weird and crazy.
I heard footsteps nearby. In another room. Why didn’t he untie me? It wasn’t as if I could escape. He hadn’t exactly made that much effort in finding a cool way to contain me. I was tied to a chair how original. And a blind fold! How cliché. He could at least have made an effort to tie my wrists more gently. My wrists were raw and chaffed. I could feel drops of blood running down my hands. Drip. Drip. Drip. Every time a drop hit the floor and I heard the footsteps outside the door pause. Everything was silent for a moment. Then I heard him take another step and the rythmic beat started again. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The rhythm was the only thing keeping me sane. That is if I was sane. For all I knew I could be hallucinating. I could really be in a room with white sponge walls, a tiny window and wearing a straight jacket. My eyes grew heavy. Starting to shut. I tried to resist but the pull was too strong. I heard a voice calling my name. I saw a light a bright red light. I couldn’t be dead because the light was red and when you die the light is white. What was it? My vision started to blur and I wasn’t really in the world. I was drifting happily between the two planes. Reality and the dream plain. I saw a tall silhouette of a woman; her hair was billowing out behind her like there was a strong wind. Her voice was like tiny bells chiming. It was a mesmerising sound. As she stepped forwards I saw her properly. She had long ruby coloured hair and deathly pale skin, her scarlet lips stood out beautifully with her matching crimson eyes. Despite most people thinking red eyes were evil, I felt as if I could trust her. As if I could tell her every secret I had and not worry about her telling someone. I had an itch inside of me, I knew her but I couldn’t say where I knew her from. It was so frustrating. Like when you are trying to beat a game and you know that you are so close, but then you get stuck on one little section and don’t know how to sort it out .She was calling my name. Beckoning for me to come closer. I took a step towards her.

They crossed over the border the hour before dawn
Moving in lines through the day
Most of our planes were destroyed on the ground where they lay
Waiting for orders we held in the wood – word from the front never came
By evening the sound of the gunfire was miles away

Ah, softly we move through the shadows, slip away through the trees
Crossing their lines in the mists in the fields on our hands and our knees
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the smoke on the breeze

All summer they drove us back through the Ukraine
Smolensk and Viasma soon fell
By autumn we stood with our backs to the town of Orel
Closer and closer to Moscow they came – riding the wind like a bell
General Guderian stands at the crest of the hill

Winter brought with her the rains, oceans of mud filled the roads
Gluing the tracks of their tanks to the ground while the sky filled with snow
And all that I ever was able to see
The fire in the air glowing red silhouetting the snow on the breeze

In the footsteps of Napoleon the shadow figures stagger through the winter
Falling back before the gates of Moscow,
Standing in the wings like an avenger
And far away behind their lines the partisans are stirring in the forest
Coming unexpectedly upon their outposts, growing like a promise
You’ll never know, you’ll never know
Which way to turn, which way to look, you’ll never see us
As we’re stealing through the blackness of the night,
You’ll never know, you’ll never hear us
And the evening sings in a voice of amber, the dawn is surely coming
The morning roads leads to Stalingrad, and the sky is softly humming

Two broken Tigers on fire in the night flicker their souls to the wind
We wait in the lines for the final approach to begin
It’s been almost four years that I’ve carried a gun
At home it will almost be spring
The flames of the Tigers are lighting the road to Berlin

Ah, quickly we move through the ruins that bow to the ground
The old men and children they send out to face us, they can’t slow us down
And all that I ever was able to see
The eyes of the city are opening now it’s the end of the dream

I’m coming home, I’m coming home,
Now you can taste it in the wind, the war is over
And I listen to the clicking of the train wheels as we roll across the border
And now they ask me of the time
When I was caught behind their lines and taken prisoner
"They only held me for a day, a lucky break", I say;
They turn and listen closer
I’ll never know, I’ll never know
Why I was taken from the line and all the others
To board a special train and journey deep into the heart of holy Russia
And it’s cold and damp in the transit camp, and the air is still and sullen
And the pale sun of October whispers the snow will soon be coming
And I wonder when I’ll be home again and the morning answers "Never"
And the evening sighs and the steely Russian skies go on forever
ok, next time I will ask "Dude wheres my car?"
Al Stewart song