Post-hauntings

He lies still in his bed at odd hours of the evening. He does not listen to music. The television is not on. All alarms are, by all accounts, dormant. 

The boy, who recalls impregnable realities, refuses to sit up straight, perhaps afraid his eyes would commence themselves to the illusory. Perhaps sure something would be staring back.

So the boy does not move. And he finds all sounds cannot emit themselves from him. Instead, his silence and his stillness were his wailing.