Monday

All of a sudden, there are sounds.

I was just lying here, quiet and peaceful, untroubled by the silent world around me, and then I heard them. At first, it was just an indistinct buzz. That was bad enough. But then one of the sounds jumped out like a spring from a poorly treated ballpoint pen.

“I told you not to send that email without checking with me first.”

Imagine my horror. Remember, I’m not supposed to know what a voice is. I’m not even supposed to hear anything. But here I was, hearing it. Understanding it. My poor mother would twist in her dusty grave.

“I – I’m sorry, I thought you said –”

Another voice. I strained to sink deeper into the Giant Box That Holds Us All before I remembered that my legs are stiff and unyielding. I tried to clap my hands to my ears before it occurred to me that I don’t have arms. I focused all my attention on that strange itchy spot in my second loop. All to no avail. I keep hearing sounds, noises, voices, clanging and buzzing and ringing all around me.

Something has gone very, very wrong, and I wish that my parents hadn’t been Chosen so shortly after my birth. With the proper parental guidance, maybe all this could have been avoided.

Monday night

In the end, the voices went quiet. So did most of the other sounds. They have been quiet for a while now. I might have dared to hope that my sense of hearing disappeared as quickly as it came… if it weren’t for the humming monster.

Several times, when the voices were still here, I heard its constant low drone increase to a frantic screeching. The first time it happened, I cringed in terror, haunted by the unspeakable evil that was surely happening right in front of me… and then the screeching stopped. The monster went back to its quiet, steady buzz for a while. And then the cycle started all over again. But when the voices stopped, the screeching stopped with them.

Perhaps it’s killed them all, torn them to shreds with long, pointy teeth. Perhaps the screeching was the sound of a voice dying a violent death.

I wonder if the monster knows I’m here. Is it about to sink its teeth into me and crush me in its humongous maws? I’m listening as hard as I can for the sound of soft paw-steps, a rattling breath, the clink of a claw.

But all I can hear is the unchanging, never-ending hum. It sounds alert somehow, like someone watching. Waiting.

Tuesday

I didn’t get eaten after all. Honestly, though, I wish I had. Because what happened instead is much worse.

I was staring at the white shelf above me, listening to the hum of the monster… when I suddenly realised that I’m not supposed to know what white is. Or a shelf. I’m not supposed to know anything at all. I told myself to stop seeing, to lie here quietly like I’m supposed to. But just like the hearing thing, I found once you start it’s difficult to stop. So I decided I might as well get it over with and take a look around.

There’s a wide expanse of beige below me. It holds a big, black square that stands on its hind legs, a few thin, rectangular white sheets and a red metal thing that punches silver slivers into the sheets. A stapler, as I would soon find out. Also, a light brown puddle of something that flows dangerously close to the Giant Box That Holds Us All.

I still don’t know what the humming monster looks like. It’s lurking just out of sight, toying with me, taunting me.

At least I know now who the two voices belong to. They came back in the end. For a long while, they were too far away for me to make out what they said. But halfway through what the voices call the day, I caught a snippet of their conversation.

“I’ll need you to skip your lunch break today, Lauren. We’re running behind on the Ducker deal and I need all hands on deck.” That was the first voice. Tough, steely, unforgiving – I realised it must be the red metal stapler.

“I, um, I was hoping… my mum – mother – is coming to visit, we were going to…” the voice called Lauren faltered. “But of course, I’ll just tell her I can’t. All hands on deck. I understand.” So different from the other it’s hard to believe they’re both voices. Watery, wavering, soft. Lauren must be the light brown puddle beneath me.

Apart from the motionless objects, there are others that float around on their own. Big, squishy, soft-looking things in a variety of pink and brown colours. A pair of them hovered on the beige expanse for ages, on the far side of the black square. They’re also the reason I know what the red metal thing is called and what it does.

“I’ll just grab your stapler”, a voice said, one that I hadn’t heard before. I expected the stapler to argue. It didn’t seem the type that would allow itself to just be grabbed like that. But it stayed silent as a pink squishy thing lifted a thin white sheet and pushed it into the stapler’s mouth. The clang of its teeth made me flinch. I wondered how the paper liked being punched with the silver sliver. I thought of the humming monster, biding its time until it can do the same to me. I listened to the humming for a while, wondering what it was planning. I feel safer when the voices are around, but I know they won’t stop it attacking. I need to be on my guard at all times.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you send the report to Ducker before you leave.”

I don’t know why the stapler said that. It didn’t move afterwards, nor change its position in any way. It just stood there, strong, red, aggressive. But some time later, I heard soft thumps. And then everything changed.

The colours all disappeared. At first, I thought the monster had finally pounced. Any moment, I would feel the stab of sharp teeth, see the blood red inside of a gaping mouth. But nothing happened. I lay there. The monster hummed. And everything around me, the flat expanse, the stapler, the white sheets – everything was shrouded in a dull sort of grey.

I suppose it’s what happens to the world when the voices disappear. The colours disappear along with them.

To while away the time, I’ve been thinking about the Giant Box That Holds Us All. I’ve noticed, now that I can see, that the darkness above me is lifting. I vaguely remember that my brethren were once packed tight and impenetrable all around me. I remember the crushing weight of their bodies, the cold, smooth feeling of their limbs pressed against mine. And now the weight is gone. I can see the shelf above me change from white to grey.

One of my brethren was Chosen today. He was lying right on top of me, loop on loop, and then suddenly he was not. I got a glimpse of him dangling between two giant, pink, fleshy things, and then he was gone. Just like that.

I used to want nothing more than to be Chosen. It’s what I’m here for, the entire purpose of my existence. But now… I wonder what will happen to me when I’m Chosen. What it looks like where they took him, what sounds there are. I wonder if they are better or worse than the sights and sounds around the Giant Box That Holds Us All. Nothing is how it’s supposed to be anymore.

I’ve been trying to make discreet enquiries. I need to know whether any of my brethren can see and hear, too. It would make this whole ordeal less shameful. But it’s impossible to tell. They’re lying squished against each other in the Giant Box like they’ve always done. None of them is moving or talking or giving any sign that they know what’s going on. But then, neither am I. Maybe the others are staring at me, wondering about me, too. There’s just no way to know.

Wednesday

I realised that Lauren isn’t the puddle after all. After the voices had been quiet a long time, a fleshy thing came and wiped the puddle up with a yellow cloth. For the first time ever, I wanted a voice of my own, so I could tell the fleshy thing to stop. But if this existence has taught me anything, it’s that I never get what I want. So I lay there quietly and watched the fleshy thing kill Lauren the puddle.

But Lauren returned. She was the first one back after the long, grey, silent time. The two fleshy things on the beige expanse turned up, too. I’m starting to think they and Lauren might be connected.

“Right”, Lauren murmured. “Focus. You need to finish paragraph 5 before Eva the Terrible comes in. Here we go…”

I wonder who Eva the Terrible is. She can’t be the humming monster because the humming never stopped. I have a feeling she is the stapler. Or maybe, if Lauren is not the puddle, Eva might not be the stapler, either. So many questions, and I can’t ask a single one.

Thursday

This is it. The end of the world as I know it. I’m so dazed I don’t even know how I feel about it.

The day started unremarkably enough. Once again, the humming monster had spared me. Once again, the voices reappeared with the colours.

But then. Lauren placed a pile of papers on the flat expanse, with one of the silver slivers stapled into the top corner.

“What’s that?” I recognised Eva the Terrible’s voice.

“It’s – it’s the contract. You asked me to print it, rem –”

“I mean that.” Eva jabbed her fleshy thing at the staple.

“Um”, Lauren hesitated. “It’s a staple?”

“Exactly.” Eva’s voice sounded as though Lauren had just confessed a crime. “Do you ever listen to a single thing I say? How many times have I told you that I don’t want you to use staples on drafts? You are to use paper clips for anything but the final version.”

Lauren mumbled an apology and poked and prodded at the sliver until it came off. Her big, pink, fleshy thing suddenly appeared above me, getting larger and larger until it filled the entire world. And then, just like that, I was Chosen.

Friday

My mind is still reeling but I’m starting to get used to my new surroundings. I haven’t moved far, so that helps. I’m on the desk next to Lauren’s, and I can still see the Giant Box That Holds All The Others from the corner of my non-existent eye. When things become too overwhelming, I look at its firm, plastic-y sameness for reassurance.

Where to start. The strangest thing is the smooth, thin edge of the paper. It cleaves into my body, separating my outer loop from the inner one. I know I should accept it gladly, glow with pride that I have finally fulfilled my purpose. But it still feels odd. Intrusive. Almost like I’ve been cut in half.

The truth is, it’s hard to feel proud when I don’t seem to be clipping anything important. The pile of papers that I’m wedged to, the contract produced by Lauren, hasn’t even been touched yet. After making such a fuss about getting it done, Eva’s taking her sweet time about actually reading it.

Still, the change of perspective is certainly exciting. Let me describe to you how my view has opened up. I can see the glaring bright strips that suck up all the colour at night. I figured that out yesterday. Lauren was the last to leave the office again. Right before her footsteps faded, I heard a click, and then the strip went dark and all the colours faded. This morning, another click and the strip spat them out again. I wonder what the colours taste like. If they taste good, why do the strips spit them up again every morning?

I can see the owners of the voices, too. Lauren looks just like you’d expect, as close to a puddle as it’s possible to be while being a fleshy pink thing. Pale, transparent, and her face was covered in water when she was on her own yesterday. At first glance, Eva doesn’t match her voice quite so well. She’s tiny compared to the others, her head no higher than Lauren’s shoulder. But she moves as though her limbs were made of metal, like mine, all stiff and tense. And that face… the beaklike nose and strong eyebrows make me want to coil in on myself, and her mouth is permanently tilted downward, as though she’s just tasted something horrible.

The biggest disappointment is that I still can’t see the humming monster. I was hoping my new position would give me a better view, but the only difference is that I can hear the humming more clearly now. It’s closer, but it remains stubbornly out of my sight.

Eva is turning to Lauren’s desk, hands pressed against her hips. I don’t know why they do this, these gestures with their limbs, but this one makes me want to crawl back into the Box That Holds All The Others. “Did you speak to Mr. Ducker last night?”

Lauren ducks as though Eva had taken a swipe at her. “Um”, she says quietly, “he wanted to run through the To Do list and it was past ten, so I didn’t want to disturb –”

“What did I tell you about talking to clients on the phone?” Eva is roaring like a wild beast.

“I…” Lauren sinks lower into her chair. Her face is trembling like I’ve seen it do when she’s alone. “Sorry, I –” And she darts out of her chair and out of my sight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Instead of an answer, a roar rips through the room. The floor beneath me shakes as giant legs stomp towards us.

There it is. Finally. The attack I knew was coming. It’s almost a relief.

I can see it now. It’s huge, its humongous, scaly body stretching all the way from the floor to the ceiling. A row of thin, pointy teeth sticks out from its wide mouth. And its eyes… large and charcoal black, they’re glinting with pure evil.

The voices are screaming and running away on their long, fleshy limbs. Eva is still in her chair. She turns her head and glares at the intruder. I half-expect her to ask the monster what it thinks it’s doing, interrupting her work like that. For a moment, I even wonder whether the monster will shrink under her glare and turn tail.

It opens its mouth with an ominous growl. A jet of red-hot, glaring-white something blasts out with a deafening roar, engulfing the paper below me until it shrivels and disintegrates. I want to cry out in pain, but I’m mute as ever, doomed to watch and endure. Everything around me has turned into a crumbling, black mess. I watch the monster take what’s left of Eva between its jaws and disappear in the direction of the bathroom. Then the world buckles around me and dissolves into mercifully painless darkness.