Unapologetically Artistic

me in silence. Now they wept, wept tears that burned like acid against my
skin. The soft pitter-patter of their tears is a music in of itself. Sometimes I
wonder whether this whole mess would have ended if I had simply deleted
the Piper app. But I couldn't. My thumb would hover over the delete
button, waging a silent battle. But the music of the tears persisted, and the
app remained untouched.
The Piper continued his threats.
He grew impatient when I wouldn't provide enough names. He
threatened to replace me. He taunted me with the knowledge that he
would find somebody "infinitely better" to carry out his tasks. Even worse,
he threatened to not fulfill his promise and take the eyes and my followers
too! That was the worst threat of all. All my followers, gone. Poof! I
shudder just thinking about it. I wouldn't know how to live. Spectacles are
made to be watched, after all. I sent him list after list. The raging tide of
eyes grew thinner. I felt vulnerable without the steady gazes. I was under
attack by a barrage of tears. Yet I clung to the once-hated eyes, clung to the
names on that list.
Until I saw yours.
I clicked on your profile. Saw your followers. In a list of your recent
alerts there was a message you hadn't opened yet. It was from the Piper. I
shook with rage. He was going to trick you. You, who are, and have always
been, infinitely better than me. You. You, watching a train wreck. Watching
me. Having no idea. I told you earlier, my friend, that this message was a
dire warning. And it is. Beware the Piper. Beware the Song. Beware. Do
not dare to reply to his messages. If you do, there will be hell to pay.
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