One of the most horrific sounds is that of a child screaming with agony. In my head, I hear the child of me screaming relentlessly in the night and deepest depths of the catacombs of mine own mind. It is my silence that forbids me to speak or echo the discord of the screaming child that grows louder, and louder, and louder. My mind grows weary as the screams grow wild, and there is neither silence nor peace in my head. The world hears nothing of what I hear of the child of me, tormenting me constantly with his pain and anguish that never cease. Out goes my flames upon the darkened days and blackened nights in the still cold that contains me within my hell. Hell has no fury greater than the hell that resides within me.