Stuck on Replay

I thought I wouldn't sleep well last night after what happened, but I did. As I soon discovered, it's not my sleeping that's haunted, it's my waking.

How do you forget something that, in every recess of silence, replays itself? A scooter beside me in traffic backfires and I nearly jump out of my skin. Someone closes a classroom door too hard and I hold my breath waiting for shattered glass to fall. Even the soft sound of water flowing through the upstairs neighbor's pipes makes me nervous as it sounds too much like the hiss of gas.

Home can not be the sanctuary it once was. I used to consider this place a treasure because it's rare to find places in the city so quiet. Now the once peaceful silence is uncomfortable as every sound seems magnified. Even as midnight approaches the day after the event, I can still hear the occasional sound of glass hitting the pavement below. In the daylight, things are better, but at night I approach the kitchen with hesitation.

It really is stuck on replay in my mind. I could feel it, hear it, and see it over and over again all day. I can now begin to imagine what it must feel like to live somewhere effected by war and bombings. I've had only a glimpse of this - the surprise, the force, the sounds, the commotion, and that was more than enough.