The October Music, Stanza 2 - Day 18

Everybody Scream

            The idea of a ‘Primal Scream’ day was novel enough. At exactly noon across the world, everyone was encouraged to step outside and just scream at the top of their lungs. The idea was that everyone purging themselves of accumulated stress and anxiety and worry and anger and all those other ugly little emotions at one time would result in a worldwide sense of relief. The tensions between countries and individuals that had been building for so long and, to be honest, were approaching the point of no return could be vented and reason and rationality could fill in the gaps.

            It was a lovely idea and, despite the inherent silliness of it all, people agreed. Not everyone, of course, because nothing is truly universal, but a considerable majority of all humanity collectively chose to indulge in the idea. What could it hurt? The world felt as if it were standing on a razor’s edge as is. Any solution, no matter how absurd, was worth trying simply to avoid the buttons being pushed, the bombs being dropped, and the collective cessation of existence happening.

            So, at approximately noon on September 10th EST (the United States had insisted on both the time and the date), 83% of the people in the world left their desks or homes or businesses or wherever else they were located, walked out into the sunlight or moonlight or dusk or dawn, stood side by side, leaned their heads to the sky and screamed. Howled. Shrieked. Emotionally vomited decades of fear and hatred and everything else roiling in their hearts. One massive, world-encompassing ululation tore from the throats of the majority of humanity and erupted into the sky.

            The Scream lasted around ten to fifteen seconds. When it was done, when everyone’s throat was raw and tired, when the echo of so many voices quietly reverberated into the aether, there was silence. People stood, breathing hard, and realized that they did, in fact, feel better. Was it a complete sea change? Of course not. People are people and they can be bastards, but for a moment, peace washed over humanity. It was, for lack of a better term, nice.

            It was in that moment of peace, though, that relief was replaced by terror when the response came. Loud, unbearably so, enough to shake the very ground on which people were standing. It was high-pitched and seared the minds of everyone on Earth. People fell to their knees, clutching their ears, praying that blood did not pour out from burst eardrums.

            The next week was spent in frantic discussion. What was it? Where did it come from? What did it want? It was one zoologist from Denmark that made the connection that solidified the buzzing fear into cold, solid terror. See, baby animals in distress scream for their mothers to alert them to their location. The mothers often scream back to reassure their babies that they are coming.

Thus, the question crystalizes:
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            What baby did we sound like?