Silent War

The book bag hanging off my shoulder felt heavier than it had when I first tossed it on.

It only had the few essentials I needed to survive.

But after hiking up a mountain for three miles I was sure even the hair tightly wound in a ponytail on my head was to heavy for me to be lugging around.

My legs wobble as they finally straighten, the ground beneath my sneakers leveling. Sweat beads down the side of my neck, trickling a cool path over my skin as it slips inside my t-shirt.

I take in the little rest area. The map had been straight forward enough, as had the email they had sent a week prior. My life had recently spiraled, too much outside noise had filled my head, which was why when my mother offhandedly mentioned that a friend of a friend of hers had gone on an silent retreat I decided to sign up. No questions asked.

I take in a heavy, lung filling breath of air, fresh air that smelled strongly of soil, dried leaves and over all else the rich scent of burning wood. Standing beside the freshly made fire, stood an older man and woman. Silent statues, flashing warm greeting smiles at anyone who passed by them. Jugging by the matching pale blue shirts with the phrase ‘find your power in the silence’ embroidered in the center I surmise that these were our guides for the remainder of my time here.

They were handing out small note cards with instructions, keeping watchful eyes on everyone as new arrivals like myself continue to trickle in.

It was only three days.

I had repeated that to myself every step I had taken from the moment I had parked my car up until now. Three days didn’t seem so daunting.

I could go with three days of silence.

In fact I needed three days of silence.

Every single rustling of leaves, billowing of wind, and tricking of water sounded as if it was running straight between my ears. It seemed the earth around me had a lot to say when no one else was around. For the most part I had just counted each step in my head, and when the numbers had become to high for me to keep track of, I began to repeat all the things I had packed. And anticipating all the things I had to deal with when I got back home. Which lead me back to thinking about why I was even doing this to begin with.

My mother had sprung it on me last minute. And maybe it was the second glass of wine I had guzzled, but when she sent me the link I didn’t even think twice about registering myself for this little escape into silence.

It might offer a change of pace.

Maybe after three days I would reset, take my life by the reigns and steer it into a new direction. Or whatever bullshit the cheery invite had written on it.

Three days where nobody was voicing their opinions. Or telling me all the ways my life was a disaster. My throat tightens, the beating of my heart filling my ears as I head to the center of the campsite.

A few other people were scattered around, some stretching on the ground, a few setting up their things. One girl was resting against the trunk of a tree, her vibrant pink hair reflecting with the light as she kept her head low and bent over a notebook she was scrawling in.

I had packed a book, one I had stolen from the shelf of my local library.

It had been an impulse.

I had been browsing the self helps books. It had been a new low. One that I hadn’t even been able to reach while tunneling through an infinite amount of ice cream cartons. But in that moment everything bubbled to the surface.

All the noise and everyones nagging voices has finally caught up to me.

It had been then that I had decided to lean into thievery.

I jammed the first romance novel I found into my purse.

I’d been so paranoid that someone would call me out on my new found life of crime that I bolted, abandoning both my friend and my half eaten chicken salad sandwich. I had mourned that sandwich, but the punishment fit the crime so I took it in the chin.

Maybe that book was the reason my pack seemed so freaking heavy now.

When I reach the guides, their eyes zero in on me like predators on prey. Only the were more inviting rather than ravenous with hunger.

They smile in greeting, stretching their lips with enough force that crinkles appear around the corners of their eyes. I try to reciprocate the silent welcome but keep my distance. Enough that the guy, who upon closer inspection has a sticker greeting card taped to his shirt. Carl. His name was Carl, and beside him stood Celia.

Both of them quietly observe me.

Blinking and unsure how to proceed. My immediate reaction is to open my mouth to greet them, but at the slight widening of their eyes my lips clamp shut, my tongue shriveling in my mouth.

A warmth spreads over my skin.

Right.

Silent. Retreat.

Instead of bursting the quaint and quite bubble I now lived in for the next few days I nod my head at them and quickly snatch the index card from Carl’s hand. The two of them give me a parting, worrying glance before thankfully shifting their attention to someone else.

My eyes skim the the words scripted on the paper.

Welcome to your peaceful escape! Enjoy the next few days getting to know yourself and the world around you. Phones are strongly discouraged, but in case of an emergency you are allowed to keep them on you. I almost let out an audible snort at that one. Phones were useless up here. I would have to launch myself off this mountain top just to get a sliver of service. Make yourself at home, pick an empty tent and enjoy the rest of your evening, we will be meeting at sun down for a wind down yoga session where we will allow our bodies to become one with the sounds of the night.

Further instructions will be given later.

In the meantime take a moment and enjoy the silence.

Wonderful.

Tossing my bag down on the ground, I hunch and peek into the tent I had selected for myself. It was secluded from the majority of the other tents that seemed to clump together. A thick tree rooted right beside it, a perfect place to lean up against while I read, or pondered my life choices. Which seemed much more daunting the longer I realized that the only voice that would be guiding me these next few days was my own. If I needed advice, or a second opinion, or to spiral into my mind it would be with the sound of my voice echoing in every corner of my mind.

I wasn’t ready to deal with myself yet.

The tent looked inviting. Spacious enough for me not to feel as if the fabric walls around me would suffocate me while I slept. Triangular but sturdy. The inside lined with what I assume was a weather proof tarp to keep it insulated, a navy blue sleeping bag lay unfurled in the center with a singular pillow atop it.

It would do.

My fingers gently lift the metal zipper of my bag, ready to spill my things on top of the sleeping bag, only before I could awareness pricks at the back of my neck. A little needle that sends a shiver down each vertebra of my spine.

Call it a six sense.

But something about the way the leaves crunched beneath the approaching footsteps sends my body into an automatic flight mode.

Slowly I turn my head, coming eye level with dark denim pants.

My eyes drop to take in a worn pair of hiking boots. And then they travel, and travel, up to the owner of the denim clad legs. A familiar pair of hazel eyes stares down at me. Amusement lighting those irises when they clash with mine.

What the hell was he doing here.

His presence is enough to make me stumble back on my heels and land butt first onto the ground. My back slamming into the tree with enough force that a hiss of pain escapes from between my lips. I firmly press them together to keep in the eruptions of colorful words that bubble in the back of my throat.

Infuriatingly enough, the amusement in his eyes clouds over with concern. His body lurching towards mine, hands reaching out as if to offer me some sort of help.

As if his existence alone wasn’t part of the reason I found myself here to being with.

How was it that the one person on this planet I wanted to be far away from, had materialized as if summoned like the spawn he was. Unwanted fungus sprouting in perfectly green grass after rain fall.

Narrowing my gaze, I try and spell out the phrase ‘back off’ in the pupils of my eyes.

He seems to take the hint, his hands raising in the universal sign of retreat. I don’t take my eyes off of him though, not until enough distance exists between us again. Until my body disarms, and my shoulders relax once more. But I was all to aware of the fact that he was but a mere few feet from me.

Of course that could also be because instead of picking any other empty tent surrounding us, he had decided to settle for the one across from mine.

Giving him direct access to me.

After making myself comfortable, I peek outside. When I notice he was no longer by his tent I step out of mine. Stretching my legs and dusting off specks of dirt from my pants. When I rise I still.

There he was again. Not a figment of my imagination, a nightmare made reality.

Those dark brows raise slightly, those eyes of his trailing the length of me, taking time to look at the shirt on my body before meeting my stare again. The smug smirk on his face enough to let me know what he was thinking without having to utter a single word.

My jaw ticks, at the same time I cross my arms over the front of the shirt subconsciously. It was my favorite shirt, and I wasn’t about to be shamed for wearing it. Even if it didn’t originally belong to me. His little league baseball shirt felt comfortable on my skin, and it wasn’t like the giant could wear it, he would rip the stitches trying to fit it over that massive head of his.

I could feel a twitch begin to settle in the muscles around my eye.

I needed to escape my escape. It was ridiculous. Even that sounded insane in my head.

I begin to walk away, only to stop when something is hurled at the back of my head.

Pausing, I look down at the crumpled up paper nestled between my sneakers. It was the same paper Carl had handed to us upon arrival. I look from the paper to the man who had just thrown it at me as if we were preschools. He shrugs. My lips purse.

Then he points a finger at me and at a spot in front of him and mouths ‘come over here.’ I hate that I perfectly make out the sound of his voice in my mind. That he is able to communicate with me without speaking. I could read his body like I was sure he could read my own. Which was was how I knew he was growing annoyed with my lack of motion at his command. I cross my arms in answer.

Deciding to feign ignorance—and further entice his annoyance—I tilt my head to the side, allowing my hair to flop over my shoulder as my eyebrows crinkle together.

I point to my ear and shrug before spinning on my heels and marching over to the other side of the grounds. Yoga had begun.

Dropping down, I fold my legs under me and close my eyes.

It was time to meditate.

Or at least those had been the instructions. And at least this way I wouldn’t have to be bothered with the man intent on making this weekend hell for me. Or course ruining my life hadn’t been enough for him, breaking our engagement out of the blue, and destroying years of friendship between us wasn’t enough for him. No the over achiever also wanted to destroy this healing trip I had signed up for.

I still couldn’t figure out how the two of us ended at this retreat at the same time.

But I would get to the bottom of that later.

Because there was one little fine print I recall as I sit with my eyes tightly shut. The little inscription flashes behind my lids in bright red warning.

Anyone who breaks the vow of silence will be asked to leave the premises immediately.

I fell my lips twitch in a smile.

If anyone of my peers looked over at me they would probably think I was certifiable, and maybe I was but the idea brewing was to good to pass up.

I knew exactly how I was going to fill the rest of my time here. I’d read that path to peace was to let things go, to leave things as they were and exit with grace. But I didn’t want to go that rout, in fact the voice in my head was encouraging me to go in the opposite direction, and since she was my main source of guidance I was letting her make the final decision.

It took all of one second to come to a concision, and it evolved revenge.

If I could get him kicked out before tomorrow it still left me with a day to enjoy silence and find the inner peace I was in desperate need of. But before I did that I would be adding a bit of chaos to the mix.

After an hour of breathing and stretching, Carl and Celia bow to the group. Dismissing us to our tents once more. Giving everyone time to go back to their activities. Ranging from journalism to trying to climb a tree.

Mean while I had started a war.

A silent war.

One that neither of us intended on losing.

It had started with me stealing his flashlight.

Harmless enough.

If I hadn’t been aware of his fear of the dark it might have even seemed childish. But if he was intent on making me suffer by being here than it was only fair I made sure he suffered as well. I watched from the safety of my tent as he searched all over his little campsite, flipping his bag inside out, tossing his things all over the ground.

It brought a warm satisfaction to my chest, comforting me enough that I was able to get in some light reading before preparing for the night.

My smile had lasted up until I returned from the restroom, my toothbrush gripped in my fingers falling to the ground when I noticed a spider resting on top of my pillow.

It had taken all of my will power and a silent prayer not to scream my lungs out.

Even though I was smack dab in the middle of the woods, miles away from the nearest Target I knew that the spider innocently spread on my pillow was no natural act.

In fact it was plotted.

I locate the culprit. He was reading, or pretending to. Because even from here I could see the slight shake of his shoulders as a mute laugh shook his frame.

It went on like that for the remainder of the evening, him doing something and me retaliating. Until I realized that the day was all but done.

For some reason time seemed to have flown quicker than I thought.

Unable to stop myself, I scan the area. Trying to locate him, and when I do, I find that he was already staring at me. The distance between us seems to have shrunk, I take a step in his direction and he does the same, only I stop when I feel a drop of cool water weigh down the skin of my cheek.

Glancing up I notice gray clouds had formed at some point, and then they open up. Dashing though the campsite I dive head first into my tent. Narrowly avoiding drowning in the rain that was pelting against the ground forcefully enough to displace it.

I watch everyone make a run for it, covering their heads, the sounds of wet feet and muffled squeaks echoing until once again only the sound of nature fills the air.

White noise closing us all in a bubble once more.

I catch those hazel eye as he slips into his tent, dark hair matted down over his forehead as the rain pounds down harder.

Sweet dreams He mouths.

Fuck off I mouth back, his eyes shining and that dimple appearing before he flicked his tent closed. I do the same, curling myself into the warmth of my dry sleeping bag, resting my head back on to the fluffy pillow.

And while I count each of my breaths, I can’t suppress a secret grin as I await a new day to begin, the cluster of poison ivy I found earlier—sprouting conveniently along the edge of the tree beside me—fresh in my mind along with how nicely it had rubbed into the fabric of his pillow.

Sweet dreams indeed.