I can remember someone's obnoxious voice.

Vaguely, like listening through a closed door. I stand on the outside of the room, and I don't know what happened to my arms or hands, but all I know is that I can't open that door.

So I listen.

If I stay truthful, which is something I'm not sure I even do, but if I try to stay truthful, I would say it's an annoying voice. It's not annoying because it's high pitched, it's only annoying because it sounds like sunshine, and I, sitting in this dark room, am no where near it. So naturally, it's too optimistic. Why that would be a problem is anyone's guess. But, right now, I don't want to feel optimistic. The sunshine is in that closed room, and all I can do is close my eyes and enjoy such an annoying voice.

Because that voice is what sunshine sounds like.

And I can't get over it. That annoying voice. Sometimes I hear someone else's, but they sound like regular people, that or really sad, enough to depress me to the point where all I yearn to hear is the sun's voice. I don't ever feel compelled to open the door though, no matter how many people I hear. In a way it feels as if I've already met the sun and got blinded, not burned, no. I wouldn't feel the pain.

I'm numb to the point that I can't register if I am blind. I mean, pitching my cheeks hurts and all but it doesn't really hurt me, not in the real sense. I can comprehend that it's pain, but I don't feel the pain. It's as if my physical and emotional selfs are disconnected. I'm out of sync. It makes me wonder, about that voice, about somethings I don't remember, which is a lot apparently. See, I can't even remember what I ate for breakfast this morning, or lunch, that might be normal for some people, it just doesn't feel right that I can't. It's part of being numb, I guess. Part of me notices these problems, but another part just doesn't care.

I might be blind, though. Because when I hear that sunshine laugh, I don't see anything, and it's always at night, in the dark. I can't picture a face to go with that stupid voice, and I'm not okay with that.

It doesn't feel right. A lot of things don't feel right. But I think I'm happy. I'm fed, at least. I think it used to be a problem, eating, because when I do I feel like I'll never eat again, which is of course ridiculous.

Again, I shrug my shoulders at that.

I don't particularly hate that voice, but, if I'm actually being truthful this time...

I want to know who's it is.

I want to know who I used to think sounded like sunshine. I want to remember who sounded like sunshine. Because I don't remember anything, I guess.

If I'm being truthful, that is.

Because if I am, then I'd also say I don't want to remember everything, only the owner of that voice. Because I know life isn't all sunshine, and through that closed door might be a storm, something that will swallow me whole and drown me, but this time I only what to remember the good. Even if that voice gently tugs at the door knob on the other side and they are saying something, I plug my ears. I only want to remember that voice.

Only this one time.

But I'll stay outside that door for now, and I'm also okay with that, but I don't think I'm being truthful this time.