My voice remained unheard in my scrambled mind. I did know how what to do or say to the people around me. At this moment I felt everything too closely. I should not be here. The face I saw, was a face I had long forgotten. I do not know where I am or why I am here.
I could hear the noise of my blood rushing to my ears, I feel the blood passing through the veins of my hand. I could hear the heartbeat of the man standing next to me. My senses never felt these things. My body had become too sensitive.
I could not form proper sentences in mind, my heart felt too heavy and my lungs and mouth could not function because of the shock.
I do not know where I was stuck. I have no means of contacting anyone I know. The rain had stopped yet, the cold shivers in my body had not left.
Calm down. To be calm one must breathe slowly, extreme stress could cause life threatening illnesses. My reality could be ignored as it has been for the last twenty years, it could be ignored for twenty years more.
The only way to reduce stress momentarily is to focus on my breathing and then to lower my blood pressure I must walk. The sound of my breathing slowed, I could hear the rain droplets ripple and breeze flow through.
The voices of the men grew more impatient, I could not understand their language. I tried to interrupt their tones and the anxiety I felt through it.
I opened my eyes and looked at the men. My eyes could see too many colors, colors I did not know existed before.
My perception of the situation was that some of the men had offended the man. His voice felt dominant and others showed their humility. Their fear was not hidden, it seemed as a crooked form of respect. The man stood tall with hands behind his back.
He must be someone with authority to them. After their conversation I could seek help from him, I hoped I could convey my situation to him.
I concentrated on the type of words being exchanged. The man kept saying the same word slowly and each time others would answer him together.
Was this a normal occurrence? Was he commanding them? If so, what could be the order? Speak?
Was he telling them to repeat their words in some form? Each time their agitation and fear increased. They tried to suppress the anger in their voice, as the same sound was heard. It was a long sentence without a pause. Was it a poem or something? Is this a humiliation tactic? I could not decipher if they were truly repeating their words, but I was certain about their anger.
For a person who could only listen and understand their voice and not their words, I felt it clearly. My assumption is that they do not enough power to confront this man head on. If they could not comply, the consequences might be unfair to them.
The anxiety in my heart was growing too. All my thoughts were assumptions and deductions based on my personal experience. This could be entirely unreliable in this unfamiliar place. I am clueless about their culture and tradition, especially their language. Certain languages have expression where the tone of the speaker is unreliable.
I could feel the unease increasing with every conjecture, as it pointed towards my venerablity to harm. I could slowly walk away from this situation, I assumed even the men thought about that.
When noticing their expression, I could not understand if they were sweating profusely or it was just the rain. I looked at the man who was the closest to me.
He looked the most fearful, he was picking at his clothes, his breaths were shallow and his eyes moved away from the man, glancing at him secretively a few times.
Could he be the reason for this... Punishment? Then I realized something. The only thing differentiating me from them was my clothes. The allegedly scary man, could assume that, I am also involved whatever caused this reaction from him.
And what caused this? I do not remember anything significant happening in the last few minutes. They were not fighting or fooling around. Why are they standing next to me? And why am I standing next to them? I was sitting down few moments panicking.
I did not pay attention to my environment. This is why panicking in unsafe situations caused harm. I do not even know if I am in danger. What should I even do?
The mans voice turned stern as he said the same words again. And this time the other men bowed to man, shivering. Should I do the same thing? I recognized that after ten or more minutes this language seemed more comprehensible.
It was still painful to my ears, listening to it continuously made my head hurt. I was always stupid when it came to literature. Neither was I interested in dissecting a fictional story nor in learning new languages. The most I could do was learn the scientific and generic ephitet of organisms which were in the Ceplic text.
Even remembering the names of foreign scientists was too much to me.
I concentrated on their conversation I recognized the first sound, and the sound that came after twenty three syllables. Maybe they were repeatedly saying the same thing or it was a common conjunction or adverb.
Syllables were reliable in the language I spoke. The concept of a syllable could be applied to many other languages. I think too much sometimes. Sometimes it is better to not think at all.
Hence all my thoughts come towards a halt as the man, commanding these people looked at me. His eyes were blue. So, both of his parents must have had blue eyes or a green eyes, or maybe even a pair of green and blue eyes. There was a very small chance of both brown eyed parents conceiving a blue eyes child, about six percent or less.
However a parent with brown eyes and one with blue eyes are unlikely to conceive a blue eyed child as blue eyes are recessive traits. Unless it is a extremely rare circumstance.
Tangential speech is a communication disorder. Recognized by a speaker whose thoughts wander and lack a focus, never returning to the original concept invoking annoyance and anger in the listeners. I certainly do not lack a focus. I however would rather be ignorant to the centre of focus, a frightening focus.
I want to go home already. Why is he still looking at me?