The wind hasn’t stopped blowing for days. I close the doors and shut the windows but I can still hear the wind. The strong gusts taunt me. The whistles. The moans. The howls. The cries. The house creaks and pops.
The wind keeps blowing. Oh sure, it grows silent for a moment, lulling me into believing the torture is finally over, then an even stronger, more powerful gust blasts through, shattering the calm.
I hear them. The whispers. I tell them to stop but they don’t. They can’t. The dry desert wind carries them to me. The whispers in the wind.
I know it’ all my fault. I asked for them to talk to me. I closed my eyes hoping a simple word would come through. I lit the candles. I played along. So did they.
Ever so quietly, soft and light, the whispers came in like a welcome gentle breeze. Immediately I wanted more. I asked for more. New sensations ran through my body as invisible energies whispered to me. I was no longer alone.
The wind picked up. The whispers came faster. No longer gentle and light, the voices grew stronger. Wanting me more. Demanding that I listen. Listen closer.
Now, like the wind, I can’t make the voices stop. I want to leave. I want to run away from the desert. Run to a place where I cannot hear this menacing wind blow. Where I cannot hear the whispers…
I step outside and immediately feel surrounded by voices. I cannot move. The wind is wrapping and twisting and twirling around as the whispers grow louder and louder. My hair blows along with the dry air, catching the voices, trapping them close to my head. My skin absorbs the wind…and the whispers. I can’t take it. I run back inside and close the house up tight.
The relentless wind, barely held back by the locked doors and windows, but not the whispers… the whispers still come through. Circling the rooms. Hissing. Moaning. Whispering.
I run to my bedroom and climb to the back of the closet hoping the clothes will muffle the whispers. My mind has grown numb. I can no longer tell if the voices are outside or inside my body. The wind is still blowing.
I bang my head against the wall. Pain floods my spine but the whispers grow louder. I bang it harder. Dizzy, my heads rings, my body shakes. The whispers echoing, taunting me…
Do it again.
I take a few steps back then run head first screaming at the wall. Blood streams down my temple as I slowly pull my hair from the drywall, whispers swirling around me.
The wind still blows, rattling the house. It won’t stop. I can’t make it stop.
Find some candles. Get the board. I need to do the ceremony over again. My thoughts are swimming in the whispers. I need to try again. Formally tell them to stop.
My head hurts, my vision blurred. The blood has dried and cracks around my cheek. I can’t light the candles.
The wind won’t allow it. No… I asked for this and now I have to listen.