The Ringing

Silence.

That, and the faint ring of buzzing electricity fills my head. I can't tell if that ring is inside my mind or in the room where I sit.

I look up. I can almost sense the sound emanating from the ceiling above me. Do lights have sound? Why have I never heard that before?

In fact, my mind is oddly quiet right now. Usually, I have this constant stream of words and thoughts tumbling by like water in rabids, slipping swiftly away before I'm able to write any of it down. Perhaps that constant flow of words was loud enough to drown out this incessant ringing - which is growing louder.

I can't stand it, so I move. Lifting my ass from the comfort of the couch and, phone in hand, I walk to the kitchen. The ring follows me. Shit...

Maybe it's my phone? I press the side buttons until the screen flicks to black. Nope, still ringing.

I move around the apartment, flicking off light after light.

Still ringing.

This is driving me insane. My hands reach up to grip my ears and the ringing screams louder than ever. I want to scream too, but there is still a logical piece of my mind that tells me that would not be a good idea in our busy apartment complex.

This is definitely in my head. What do I do?

I need to drown it out. I race to the television and flick it on. Cosmo from Fairly Odd Parents loudly announces something about some wish, but the ringing only grows louder.

A shower maybe? The rushing water has always given my mind peace. I hurry to throw off my clothes, the ringing making it hard to concentrate. I step in and sigh in relief as the warm water rushes over my face and soaks my hair.

Silence, finally.

Though, the peace is short lived. Within moments, the ringing returns with a violence so mind-shattering it feels as though my head is going to explode. I can't hold it in this time. I scream, but the ringing drowns out my voice. It's everywhere and nowhere, all-consuming, intense, obsessive. It wants something. Someone. It hears. It listens. It demands.

My world goes dark.

Feeling trickles in from the void first. Confusion. Pain. In my head. I groan. Words seap through the darkness.

Where am I?

What happened?

I can't open my eyes, but I can see a light on the other side of my lids. And murmuring. Someone's here? I don't recognize the voice.

There's this beeping sound coming from beside me. Rhythmic, constant. Am I lying down? There's something soft bellow me, and something damp on my cheeks. Was I crying?

Then I remember the ringing. The beeping quickens in its rhythmic pace. My throat closes and dampness drips into my hair. I'm definitely crying. But why?

I remember being in the shower. I remember the headache the ringing caused. Did I faint? Am I at the hospital? That would explain the beeping.

I try to pry open my eyes once more, and I succeed, but only slightly. Bubbles of white, florescent lights fill my vision. I blink them away and try to focus. The ceiling, white with rectangular panels and long, thin florescent lights. I turn my head toward the beeping, which had slowed its rhythm.

A heart monitor. And beside it, an IV drip. I'm definitely in the hospital. I glance around. A shaded window to a hallway with people passing by in white coats and blue scrubs was before me. Beside it, a closed door. I could hear those faint murmurs from the other side of that door. Whoever they were, they spoke in quick, hushed whispers, their tones flat and urgent as though they were explaining facts to someone.

Maybe I can see who it is if I move to the side a little? I lift my head. Sharp pain has my eyes closing and my hands reaching to cover my temples, except, they don't get far. Metal clangs on metal is I lift my arm. I'm handcuffed to the bed?! The heart monitor beeps loudly at my rising panic.

The door flies open and three strangers enter swiftly. One is clearly a nurse in blue scrubs who moves quickly to my monitor and turns off the sound before checking on other vitals. The other two are also in blue, but theirs is darker and shining, golden badges on their chest catches the light. Police officers.

"Ms. Johnson, you're awake." The taller, burlier officer states. "We need to ask you a few questions."

The officer that followed him in was thinner and much younger-looking. His face is handsome, but pale. Too pale. He looks almost ill.

"Okay." I say, my voice uncertain. "What's this about?"

The nurse raises my bed as the two men share a concerned glance before the older officer steps forward. "I am Officer Walker, and this here is my rookie, Officer Pike. We need to ask you some questions about the incident that took place at 2464 Perrington Street last night around 12:45 this morning."

Parrington Street? That was only three blocks from my apartment.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I've never been to that address." I state factually. Another curious look between the officers.

"Ma'am, we found you unconscious at that address, lying naked in the victim's blood." Officer Walker says.

"What?" I nearly shout the word. My heart monitor's shrill beeping picking up pace again, warning of my stress. My cheeks growing uncomfortably hot.

"Yes ma'am, you had a knife in your hand and the victim had been stabbed seventeen times. Do you know a man by the name of Theodore Harrison?" I shake my head, my throat choking on suppressed sobs. "The knife had only your fingerprints, Ms. Johnson. It's clear to us that you are the culprit. We just want to know why."

"No," my voice comes as a shakey whisper. "I didn't kill him. I couldn't have. I was in the shower. My head was ringing and then... and then..." I trail off. There has to be something else. I couldn't have done this. I wouldn't have. I'm a caregiver. I don't have it in me to kill. I can't. I didn't. I wouldn't. Please, no. No. No!

"Ma'am... MA'AM!" Officer Pike is suddenly beside me. "Ms. Johnson! Please!" I startle and look up at him. Was I saying all that aloud?

Officer Walker strides over to his rookie at my bedside. "Ms. Johnson, we understand this is a traumatic experience for you. We just need to find some answers. What do you remember about last night?"

I suck in a breath, steadying myself. "Nothing. I don't remember anything. I was in the shower, and the ringing. It hurt. And it wanted something. Ha, I sound crazy, but that's it. My head hurt, and then I was here. What..." I swallow, hesitating. Do I really want to know this? I already know I won't like what I hear. But I have to ask, "what happened?"

Officer Pike gave me the details. At 12:40am, dispatch called in a disturbance from a concerned neighbor who had heard screaming. They arrived within five minutes and discovered a brutal scene. Blood was everywhere and a man was laying face down on his back porch, as though he were attempting to flee. According to the coroner, he had already been stabbed four times inside his house before stumbling to his back porch where he was shoved to the ground and stabbed thirteen more times. I was found beside the body, as though I had simply fallen over after stradling and stabbing the man. I was found naked, hair wet, with the murder weapon still clutched in my palm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and my voice came out in shakey, sobbing whispers, "I have no memory of this."