There was a strange wailing coming from the next room. A wall of deep green separated us from whatever it was suffering beyond. The disembodied, tortured howls of what lay behind the green wall compelled any who would listen to imagine unspeakable horrors. Yet most turned a deaf ear to the wailing room, chastising those of us who listened to the cries within. It was too late for those of us with an attentive ear. Once we began to listen to the wails it became impossible to ignore. Soon we realised there was not just one wailing room, but many. Over time their sounds became clearer, we could hear words mixed in with their pained screams. Words in languages we could not understand. Still these unknown words carried their speaker’s pain and loss, penetrating the heart like a needle.
Those of us who had nothing in common but an attentive ear gravitated towards one another in this great structure we called home. This place contained countless doors and offered limitless choice, except for the wailing rooms. They were forbidden to us.
Why are those doors locked? We would often ask of a dismissive audience. The doors were locked for our own good. Would be their response, if they answered at all, yet always insisting that there were no wailing rooms at all.
Their answers never satisfied the attentive and the wailing grew louder still. A creeping insanity was taking hold of us. We came to question more of the reality we were presented with. We sat at feasts and asked, where has this come from? Connecting one mystery with another we ate less and less. Our comfortable life full of choice and possessions seemingly came from some unfathomable unknown. We could no longer find joy or take comfort in our luxuries for fear that they had come from the wailing room. Restless nights were ours, the imagined tortures of the wailing rooms haunting our dreams. Something had to be done.
As attentive as we had become we longed to return to our peaceful ignorance. We wanted to help whatever it was that suffered within the wailing rooms, but we didn’t know how. So we helped ourselves instead. With soundproof boarding, white noise generators, ear plugs and whatever else we could find we deafened ourselves to the wailing. Though some of us still heard their cries in their mind we’ve a pill for that now. Sometimes I ask where the pill comes from but after I’ve taken it I don’t seem to care anymore.