It started with a scream. A loud, piercing wail, the force of which nearly sent me stammering toward the floorboards. It was a scream of excitement, of adventure, with what appeared to be a mild form of panic. It was beckoning me to follow, although I didn't know where. It was stunning, and magnetic; it spoke of joy and pleasure and comfort. Yet still I rebelled. I held firm, remained silent. Gradually I built up the strength to explain to the scream why I wasn't coming along. The floorboards were hard, and cold, and plain. But they were what I knew. The scream went silent.

I panicked. All of a sudden there was nothing, nothing except me. I tried to find the scream, I tried to reason, I tried to explain. I had nothing left. I jumped, I loudly bellowed that I changed my mind, and I wanted to follow. The scream returned, for a moment, then went away.

It is now only a whisper. Yet, still. I will follow.