Walls That Sing

I hear a t-t-t-t-t-t and know she’s here to speak to me.

“Boy?” she says, voice too small to echo.

I don’t say anything in return, I just open my eyes and look towards her voice.

I’m not allowed to turn on my lamp. That was the very first rule she made. Still, I can see her a little bit in by the window light. Her narrow snout and whiskers, back arched to make herself tall—and hairs all standing on edge. Her long naked tail which falls over the side of my nightstand sways back and forth.

“Did you do what I suggested?” she asks.

I nod; the scratching of my ear rubbing against my pillow seems dreadfully loud, but I know my voice would be louder. Her voice isn’t loud at all, but I can hear it just fine no matter how quiet she is.

“Good,” she says, voice soft like warm water. “It just wouldn’t do to have you in danger—now that other boy will think before he does anything regretful again.”

Without meaning to I lick my cracked lip, tasting the dried blood.

All I had done was place a few small black things in his bag when he wasn’t looking. She’d told me to. Said it was enough for them to find him. To teach him a lesson. The second rule she’d made was that I was to always listen to her, not do what she says, just listen—then decide for myself.

My voice is cracked when I talk because I don’t want to be too loud. “You won’t hurt him too bad… right? Not like dad?”

“Do you regret what happened?” she asks, moving down from my nightstand like a liquid shadow. Vanishing for a moment, then reappearing behind me. I turn my head to face her.

The sliver of light from the door I tell mom to keep open shines just in front of her. And I see one small set of claws, then they’re pulled back into the darkness. Somewhere out in the hallway, the light turns off—but I don’t hear moms footsteps, and I’m sure she’s still asleep.

“No,” I admit in a whisper. “At least, I don’t think so.”

From outside I hear it start to rain. Far down, I can hear the busy city streets and cars. Her voice is the quietest, but still, the most easy thing to hear.

A rustling of sheets means she’s moved again, gotten closer. “You did the right thing. Isn’t life better now?”

“Yes, I just—“

“You know you’re special, don’t you?” she interrupted.

I nodded. She’s told me that before. It was the first thing she ever told me.

It’s hard to make out her shape in the darkness like it is, only where she stands seems darker than everywhere else.

“People who are special don’t have to worry about things. You don’t have to worry about things,” her voice is a fluid whisper that skips right past my ears and wraps itself around my brain.

A sudden skittering.

A…

t-t-t-t-t-t

t-t-t-t-t-t

t-t-t-t-t-t

Tells me we aren’t alone anymore. We have an audience.

“We are here for you boy,” she says.

A question comes out of my lips before I can think. “Why don’t you ever call me by my name?”

The sound she made might have been a sigh or a laugh but it was affectionate either way. “Because names are a human thing. They speak of individualism and a severing from the one.”

“But what is the one?”

“You,” she says, but does not go on.

I try and understand, but when I tell her I don’t she says.

“Did you know that humans cannot hear when we speak? Their ears just aren’t good enough. But you’re different, we can talk to you.”

I don’t say anything right then. I just listen. I hear her, and I hear them listening as well.

“You will be our king one day,” she says. “One for many. You will lead us.”

Despite my heart racing, a yawn attempts to escape me. I try and stifle it, but it comes out anyways.

“It is good that you rest,” she says. Then, with the softest moving of sheets, she vanishes. Her voice says, far away now, but still close—“Sleep well.”

I look around the room, and it’s like the shadows are melting away. The floor seems like an ocean of black receding before a tsunami; and all the while the scurrying t-t-t-t-t-t of the many.

Then, when I’m sure I am the only one in my room, I hear them from behind the walls.

I hear them settle.

I hear them begin to sing.

Endless quiet voices, chanting in unison…

We are the many

And he is the one

Our King Our King Our King…

There is no place he wants us,

That we cannot find

Our King Our King Our King…

One mind for us to share

One will to be done

Our King Our King Our King…