02-25-2007, 05:28 PM
I wrote this at 17 1/2 as a German (mother tongue) essay in college. Pretty disturbing, but pretty telling as well and perhaps relevant to the subject of autism. I'd completely forgotten about this until now.
(original essay subject: 'anklopfen' – 'knock-knock')
knock-knock
theodor gelser sat up with a jolt. “who's there?”
he was shaking, but the only presence in the room with him was silence.
“am i really all alone?”
he sat up in bed trying to listen out for any noise, but his room was as silent as it would ever be.
silence was his protection, his harbour, and he loved it above all else. silence, without a sound: no man, no animal, no object to disturb his beloved silence, and that was how it should be.
it was, after all, the reason why he bought himself a small flat right at the edge of his city, far away from the noise of city-centre traffic, yet free from the noisy animals that bothered him so in the countryside.
even as a child theodor had always been very sensitive to noise, had never shown any interest in music and was in every sense a loner. and now he hadn't left his two rooms in days, after all in these rooms he was master over what was allowed to enter his sensitive ear canals!
it was at night, however, that he was utterly powerless – his dreams were usually wild, colourful, and most importantly, loud. for the past few days, they had been particularly bad – the same dream every night, over and over again.
there was this woman. beautiful she was, had huge dark eyes and long, so terribly long hair. she came from the woods, every night he saw her walk towards the house. he heard every single one of her steps as loud as the marching stance of a whole army, and her breath bore the noise of a thousand winds.
and always, night after night, she would step carefully towards the door, and lift her hand. knock-knock
and without fail, this was the point where he always woke up.
not once had he asked himself who this woman might be, or what she wanted from him. but it didn't look like he would ever find out – the dream just refused to move on. the knocking was simply too loud, booming through his head as realistically as if someone was really out there, knocking on his door.
but there couldn't be - he didn't know anyone! nobody must know that he lived here, even he himself was trying to forget that. and he had almost succeded - only his dreams were clear, and loud.
but now, clinging trembling and wide awake to a corner of his freezing bedroom, his mind was going into overdrive. absolute silence presided over the place, and yet there it was, inside his head, an echo: knock-knock.
so rarely did he speak, talking to himself only inside his head – other people simply didn't exist.
so now, as he once again tried to speak for the third time, his voice was shaky, raw and hollow. “please do come in, stop torturing me!”
but only the wind made a sound, brushing against window blinds that remained shut day and night.
he got up and walked to the door, opening it with stiff fingers. yawning nothingness grinned back at him frostily. his feet hesitantly stepped out on the frozen ground, and walked him out of the house. he would have given anything to stay where he was, but he was too weak to make his body stop.
it was late at night, three, perhaps still midnight. to theodor's misery, the wind was not just noisy, it was freezing, too. theodor's body was shivering under his shredded pyjamas, but the signals didn't reach his mind. they had stopped doing that a long time ago – what did a worthless body have to say, anywyay? his mind was all that mattered, and it drove him on relentlessly.
his head was beginning to recover from the knocking – all that remained was a quiet echo at the back of his skull. but the thought of that horrible noise alone made the hair on his back stand on end – what if he was to hear it again?
“don't think about the noise, don't think about the noise, don't think about the noise”. the harder he tried, the more horrible the prospect became.
his legs carried him onwards, across a field, the same path he saw every night, in his dreams. the forest was close now, but the freezing cold had driven all living things into their nests and burrows – the silence was cold as ice and clear as glass.
his feet were bleeding from the stones he was led to step on, but he relished the pain, even though it barely registered in his mind.
there it was again! only quietly, but present none the less.
knock-knock, knock-knock.
was he still dreaming?
there was the edge of the woods – the further in he went, the louder it became. how did he know where to go? something seemed to be leading him, pulling him, but what? he didn't know. what did he know, anyway?
the knocking in his head was now even louder than it had been in his dreams – he had reached a clearing, slightly elevated, the very place where his dreams always started.
a giant hammer was threatening to shatter his skill – there was nothing left of the almost tender knocking he had known in his dreams: his pain barrier had successfully been broken down.
he looked down from the elevation he was standing on, the abyss spreading out below.
down there she stood, the woman from his dreams. she smiled up at him and waved gently, and as he looked at her, the throbbing in his skull seemed to subside just a little. what a relief!
he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the icy air stinging his lungs.
he jumped.
knock-knock, knock-knock, knock-knock, the sounds were growing louder and faster until they merged into one giant throb of noise.
he never felt his body hit the ground, never registered how it was smashed on the rocks below.
but one thing he did register – just before he died: the knocking was gone, he had won the war against himself!
© 11.3.1996 Noetic
(original essay subject: 'anklopfen' – 'knock-knock')
knock-knock
theodor gelser sat up with a jolt. “who's there?”
he was shaking, but the only presence in the room with him was silence.
“am i really all alone?”
he sat up in bed trying to listen out for any noise, but his room was as silent as it would ever be.
silence was his protection, his harbour, and he loved it above all else. silence, without a sound: no man, no animal, no object to disturb his beloved silence, and that was how it should be.
it was, after all, the reason why he bought himself a small flat right at the edge of his city, far away from the noise of city-centre traffic, yet free from the noisy animals that bothered him so in the countryside.
even as a child theodor had always been very sensitive to noise, had never shown any interest in music and was in every sense a loner. and now he hadn't left his two rooms in days, after all in these rooms he was master over what was allowed to enter his sensitive ear canals!
it was at night, however, that he was utterly powerless – his dreams were usually wild, colourful, and most importantly, loud. for the past few days, they had been particularly bad – the same dream every night, over and over again.
there was this woman. beautiful she was, had huge dark eyes and long, so terribly long hair. she came from the woods, every night he saw her walk towards the house. he heard every single one of her steps as loud as the marching stance of a whole army, and her breath bore the noise of a thousand winds.
and always, night after night, she would step carefully towards the door, and lift her hand. knock-knock
and without fail, this was the point where he always woke up.
not once had he asked himself who this woman might be, or what she wanted from him. but it didn't look like he would ever find out – the dream just refused to move on. the knocking was simply too loud, booming through his head as realistically as if someone was really out there, knocking on his door.
but there couldn't be - he didn't know anyone! nobody must know that he lived here, even he himself was trying to forget that. and he had almost succeded - only his dreams were clear, and loud.
but now, clinging trembling and wide awake to a corner of his freezing bedroom, his mind was going into overdrive. absolute silence presided over the place, and yet there it was, inside his head, an echo: knock-knock.
so rarely did he speak, talking to himself only inside his head – other people simply didn't exist.
so now, as he once again tried to speak for the third time, his voice was shaky, raw and hollow. “please do come in, stop torturing me!”
but only the wind made a sound, brushing against window blinds that remained shut day and night.
he got up and walked to the door, opening it with stiff fingers. yawning nothingness grinned back at him frostily. his feet hesitantly stepped out on the frozen ground, and walked him out of the house. he would have given anything to stay where he was, but he was too weak to make his body stop.
it was late at night, three, perhaps still midnight. to theodor's misery, the wind was not just noisy, it was freezing, too. theodor's body was shivering under his shredded pyjamas, but the signals didn't reach his mind. they had stopped doing that a long time ago – what did a worthless body have to say, anywyay? his mind was all that mattered, and it drove him on relentlessly.
his head was beginning to recover from the knocking – all that remained was a quiet echo at the back of his skull. but the thought of that horrible noise alone made the hair on his back stand on end – what if he was to hear it again?
“don't think about the noise, don't think about the noise, don't think about the noise”. the harder he tried, the more horrible the prospect became.
his legs carried him onwards, across a field, the same path he saw every night, in his dreams. the forest was close now, but the freezing cold had driven all living things into their nests and burrows – the silence was cold as ice and clear as glass.
his feet were bleeding from the stones he was led to step on, but he relished the pain, even though it barely registered in his mind.
there it was again! only quietly, but present none the less.
knock-knock, knock-knock.
was he still dreaming?
there was the edge of the woods – the further in he went, the louder it became. how did he know where to go? something seemed to be leading him, pulling him, but what? he didn't know. what did he know, anyway?
the knocking in his head was now even louder than it had been in his dreams – he had reached a clearing, slightly elevated, the very place where his dreams always started.
a giant hammer was threatening to shatter his skill – there was nothing left of the almost tender knocking he had known in his dreams: his pain barrier had successfully been broken down.
he looked down from the elevation he was standing on, the abyss spreading out below.
down there she stood, the woman from his dreams. she smiled up at him and waved gently, and as he looked at her, the throbbing in his skull seemed to subside just a little. what a relief!
he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the icy air stinging his lungs.
he jumped.
knock-knock, knock-knock, knock-knock, the sounds were growing louder and faster until they merged into one giant throb of noise.
he never felt his body hit the ground, never registered how it was smashed on the rocks below.
but one thing he did register – just before he died: the knocking was gone, he had won the war against himself!
© 11.3.1996 Noetic