The echo returns not

Hello… HELLO? Nothing. Silence. The absence of sound. Shhh… I command my body to stay still, to obey, to shrink into the silence. Rigid. Unmoved. It might come back— SNAP! Screeches from the winged night guards above slice through the air. A sudden rush of wind frantically whispers its secrets to the trees. The stars and moon blink in my wake, and I cry. I cry out, but their light does not reply. Did I even speak? Did I even call? Maybe the silence is mine. I long for a response—an answer— But at what cost? What if it finds me? What if it already has— What if— it never left? No. No, I won’t think about that. But the silence is shifting, stretching, thickening. It lingers. It shifts. It grows. It listens. I can't be trapped here with only myself. Not when the silence is listening. Not when it breathes. I will let the silence take me. Going. Going. Gone. The echo will not return. Because the echo never was. Because I never was Because—