When I was really little, I had a recurring nightmare where a witch would drag me into the basement and lock me in a secret back room. In the dream, I would scream and scream, but no one would hear me. My voice would come out as a barely audible whisper, no matter how desperately I tried. People wouldn't look my way; they'd go about their business, and I'd wake up in a panic, panting as I tried to tell myself that such a situation was just a dream and would never happen in real life.
One of the worst feelings in the world is trying to confide in close friends or family, and being ignored, met with indifference or silence or downright lack of compassion. I realize that the competing demands and mundane tasks of modern life make whispered screams all but inaudible to those not paying attention.
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