Hidden in the Whispers

The words cut like a knife and were just as sharp. They made most of those who heard them cover their ears and try to ignore them. It was the worst way to say what needed to be said and yet it caused some to become angry and shrug it off only it would never go away or be easily forgotten.

Then after the words, came the rumors and gossip. It was small sentences at first, only getting longer and louder. It was then that as the whispers began to shout and yell, turning into screams, bullying and threats. Always the damn threats, as though they would be followed by physically or carried out.

Then the discussions and the begging, pleading, and many broken promises, that were never made good on. It was like one minute it was actually a reality, then it was turned down flat and put upon the shelf like a worn-out version of one's favorite book written just for them yet published and made available to the public.

It came in slow, and the pace picked up faster as they began running then more quickly, they crossed their imaginary finish line, running through the tape that would wrap them up and tightly bound their feet and legs together, but it would cause them more pain than they could bear.

Such wimps. Such cowardly people who found the fun in the little things that brought back the memories, and the scars were opened once more. The bloody moments of the scene were never actually healed completely, and they would try to clean up the mess that was made by the wounds, yet they were always unsuccessful and then they stopped to cry.

It was not one or two who had inflicted this pain. It was not total strangers who caused and brought about a form of justice that most would never wish on their own worst enemy. It was people who were considered trustworthy. These same people who were in public and around others, casting their praises and winding their charms onto all who stopped and those who listened.

It was what happened behind the closed doors and the things said would have brought on a million-mob strong group that would have most in disbelief and disgust because they would then no longer believe the list of half-truths or full lies delivered to them on a silver platter etched in faux rimmed of less than pure gold.

It brought the ones who were given it a scream of wretched anguish and livid unjust punishment, when it was only meant to be used in an emergency. It was to eliminate the very things that were the root cause of the problems, never to be the things that added to or were the reasons behind what was done at first.

It would begin at home and would either be presented by either the parents, the siblings, or possibly both groups. It made them powerful, beyond anything that would be considered legal. It would either make you stronger or make you wish you had died trying. The practices were unnatural, and they were used in many different ways. They would be issued in several vile ways. Either physically, mentally, emotionally, or all three ways, even if only to get a point across.

They were blunt and subtle. They were secret and out in the open. They were used, misused, abused and thrown at you. They made you close your eyes in high hopes that this was all a dream, and you were still at home in your warm bed not feeling a thing.

It happened in places not normally known to have this take place. It was in schools or in churches. In places that held weddings or places that held sporting events, concerts, or plays in the local theater. It was in places and locations like Los Angeles, New York, Detroit, Houston, or Niagra Falls. It left one numb and disheveled.

It as something that you would get knots in your stomach and twinges in your arms and chest. It would lead to a possible stroke or heart attack, or maybe multiple ones in succession. It would leave you with dry eyes after crying to no one for so long. It was not in any category or on any list, A-list or otherwise.

It was the cause of shame and anger, of hurt and of frustration. It would bring the strongest man to his knees and then continue to kick you while you were down lying in a fetal position and your ribs being ripped from your chest. It would cause you convulsions and break your nose repeatedly.

It broke your confidence and your will to live, all the while it would drag your name and your physical being through the mud, under the bridge that was only way into the city, dropping you on your head and hoping you would have a concussion. It gave you large bruises and welts on your whole body. It would leave you with incomplete stitches and open sores and wounds. You would not know what day it was or when it was.

It made you do things you normally were not aware could be done and leave you with less of what you were before and less of that afterwards. It was nothing more than an illusion, but it felt real enough, like being in a dream that never allowed you to wake up and escape.

Your hands were tied and your mind warped from being duct tapped only to have that, and half of your hair ripped off, then the torment and torture began once more, from the beginning.

You were spoken to, you were spoken at, with smoke blown in your face and then when it was what you hoped the end, it was the objects shoved into your ears, and nose, that made you bleed more quickly. It was divided into list of who could make you scream the loudest and for the longest, unlike the other list of people who were there for payback and revenge.

"Wow if this was life in reality, how would you feel after you was taken to those places that were part of the inner fears, that made you wet the bed at night?" "What if you were being reminded that your being a bully in your past, will eventually those who were harmed by your actions only to do to you that which you inflicted on them?"

The time is now, and the place be here wherever here may be. Do hope you are ready for it.