silence

It was frustrating, how few people understood Jace's need for silence.

There were times where the chatter of voices crashed like glass against his ears. They drew his muscles tight as if some string down his spine had been yanked. He would shudder and ask, as politely as he could, for quiet. It could be hard, trying his best not to sound curt or rude, but sometimes the sound was too much, forcing him to match its volume. If all else failed, he would always just leave, hide away.

There was always a chance that he would be met with offense to such an action. Even if outwardly they respected his wishes, inwardly they scoffed. 'I'm not being *that* loud,' they would think.

Jace often wondered what it was like, to live in a world that was far less overwhelming. Or at least to have a brain that was equipped for the one he inhabited, instead of whatever broken thing he'd been left with.
But what would he do, with his newfound silence? His estate was his, to study or wander as he wished. But too often, he would find himself seated still. Worries would buzz in his mind in a constant static pattern. His jaw remained clenched, heart rate elevated, but still he wouldn't move. Couldn't. He would watch the library around him as if shut behind a glass pane, occasionally glancing down at the hands of some stranger that looked like him.

He remembered this place.

It was a place he'd learned long ago, usually accompanied by the haze of alcohol, where everything seemed to hurt less. A place he could hide from pain and screaming and horror, put himself to protect something deeper, something vital. But though he no longer needed it, he found himself slipping there without any action of his own.

Intellectually, he knew it was just some vestigial survival reflex. But then why was it so hard to escape? Why then, would he continue to while away hours staring off into space? When even when he had to work he felt mechanical, unreal?

And how would he begin to ask the others to comprehend?

This time, he broke free. It took an immense effort to crash through the glass and force himself to stand. But once he did, it became easier.

He pulled a book off the shelf, determined to become lost somewhere nicer.