FictionPress.com - let the words flow
| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
|
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
Author's Note: I've never written romance before and this barely qualifies but it might be worth a read. Constructive reviews of all kinds welcome and I try very hard to return the favor. Please, tell me what you think!
Perhaps This is Mourning
Dear Lover,
I sense something is wrong. I cannot put my finger on it but there must be something wrong. Everything seems so strange. Tonight I was walking the dog and saw a flash of light in the sky. I mused that it might be my father, passed all these months ago, perhaps now speaking to me. Is it warning, Love? Is it just a flicker of hello? My dog would not tell, merely went on to sniff a tree and a patch of snow.
It snowed today. Last winter was unusually dry and this one seems to feel a need to make up for it. We've had snow on the ground every day for a month now, new storms constantly making up for the whiteness lost in the warm spells in between. I don't think it's been particularly cold, just wet. Mother says the nice man down the road has been helping with the driveway. He comes over and snowblows when he can and keeps her dug out. What a great guy, making up for her lousy children. I cannot help her all the time; I'm away and lost in my own ruined life.
It's almost time for the holidays and he's never far from my mind. Have you lost a parent, Love? We've not met yet so I don't know yet what your circumstances are. At night I dream of you. The darkness is frightening until I imagine your voice telling me it will be alright. You're wrapping your arms around me and telling me, in a voice that's never the same, with a face that's always changing, that you'll keep watch 'til I fall asleep.
It's not the sleeping that's hard, Love, it's the fall. It makes my heart light to know you understand, if only in my daydreams.
Yours forever,
Ariel
I woke in the night and couldn't find you. My dreams were horrible, vivid and dark. I dreamed that Mother had died as well and I wasn't there. No one should die alone, should they, Love? Please hurry up and find me. The world is becoming so different. At times I feel like I am insignificant, that the people whose lives I'm trying to better are only getting worse and they blame me because of it. A lover is supposed to make sure we see the good in ourselves. They strive to make the other feel like the self, proud and happy, how we should all be. Are you happy without me, Love? Is that why you don't come find me? I lie in bed, shivering in the darkness at night though the room is not precisely cold. It is so empty, the shadows on the wall are my only company and they frighten me so. Finally, exhausted, I fall asleep at first light when the familiar sounds of life return to the house. I'm not sure when I became unable to sleep without noise. It used to be I could sleep during anything but a movie. Now I sleep through those and can't sleep in bed. Ironic, isn't it, Love?
Wishing you were here,
Ariel
I've never lost a pet before. Have you, Love? Do you have a dog, a cat, or a hamster? Some fish, perhaps, that you're very attached to? My dad wouldn't let us get a pet for the longest time, said they were a big responsibility and expensive. We got my dog because he was free. His first owner died of some terminal disease. Isn't it strange that my father did too? Perhaps that dog was nothing more than a terminal disease magnet. Perhaps it's also good that he's dead now. It's wrong to think ill of the dead, though. I miss that dog so much already. He'd follow me around whenever I stood up to get something, thinking I'd get him a treat. He was sweet once he warmed up to you. When I sat in Father's chair, he'd crawl up on my lap and lay his drooly face on my leg, staring up at me with those chocolate brown eyes.
Do you have chocolate brown eyes, Love? Will you ever stare at me like he did, with simple pleasure at being in my presence? I'm told that's what lovers do but I do not know; we haven't met yet.
Hurry to me, Love,
Ariel
In spite of that, I'm in a good mood today. Mother and I dug through the basement and found some of her old photo albums. She showed me pictures of the early years of my parents' marriage. I got to see how handsome Father was; Mother said he had such a cute butt. He would walk over to her house on nice days or bad days because he didn't have a car. They lived in the same small town so they didn't have too far to walk but, really, I think that's such devotion. I've never lived in a town before, my childhood was spent in the suburbs, but I always wanted you to throw rocks at my window and climb the metal gutter to kiss me goodnight. I'm a hopeless romantic. That's why I write to you, Love, before I've even met you. I know you're out there somewhere and someday I know you'll love me despite my eccentricities.
There's a fine line between eccentric and mad. Please rescue me before I succumb to madness.
With a wink and a kiss,
Ariel
Have you been watching the news, Love? Do you know what is going on now or no? The government doesn't know, either, but I do. I saw this coming. Something was wrong, from the night I saw the light in the sky. What was it, I wonder. I may never know. I'm one of the infected, Love. I pray you come to me soon because the media and the doctors say I do not have long to live. Are you a doctor, Love? Are you a patient? Will we meet in quarantine or will I die incomplete?
Please, Love, don't give up on me. I haven't given up on you. Mother assures me that anything is possible when you keep up hope and prayer. I don't know if I believe in prayer; it didn't seem to help Father along much except to help him let go, which, arguably, was a mercy. Hope, though, is something I can do. I've been hoping for you as long as I can remember, Love, and I'll do it until I cannot do it any longer. My hope and love for you burns brighter than the light of my impending funeral pyre. Come to me and I know our joyful meeting will overcome the limits of mortality.
Silly me, I'm letting my words run away with themselves. Listen to that, speaking like a drunk. Mother thinks it's the medications. Without them I cough up blood like it's spit; with them I can't string one thought together without it sounding like I want to be Shakespeare but got lost on the way to the Globe with a detour to a used car lot.
I wish Father could be here but he can't. I sat beside him for his death but he can't return the favor. It's only right that the children should bury the parents, sure, but what of Mother? Who will she have and why must she sit through this alone?
My brother is useless, see. Loveliest soul I've ever seen and I dream every day that you are like him, Love, but incompetent in all things. Oh Love, I miss him. I haven't seen my brother in weeks because of the quarantine. Mother had to petition to get in to see me and even now she sits beside me in one of those big orange rubber suits like you see on television dramas. When she's here she reads my favorite books to me. I read all the classics when I was younger, before Brother corrupted me with comic books and paperback science fiction, and now we're covering David Copperfield. It's a long book but exciting. Come to me soon, Love, and we can read the ending together. It's almost over.
Thinking about our forever,
Ariel
I had everything planned out once. My journal, as you may one day find, Love, should you read this after my death, holds detailed descriptions of our life together.
We were married in fall with trees all around us. I love trees and miss the sight of them. It would be sunset and we'd kiss with the bright colors behind us. Think of the pictures we could have had! I always wanted to go to London and we'd honeymoon there. We'd come home eventually, when we realized I was pregnant with twins and needed a house of our own. It'd be an old wood house, small but with those nooks and crannies that give old houses character. The playroom would have a loft area for storytime and I'd read to our curly-haired angels, a boy and a girl, with the sun streaming over us. We'd all play in the leaves in the fall, plant a vegetable garden in the spring, and catch fireflies in the summer. You'd be there beside me when the children had been put to bed and we'd spend hours together wanting nothing more than to feel the other's heat close at hand. Finally, spent, we'd fall asleep under the covers, your strong arms around me, with all thoughts of shadows chased away.
What happened to those plans, Love? I haven't given up on you, even if those plans, those dreams, have been lost forever. I'll never be strong enough to walk down the aisle now, let alone chase fireflies. It doesn't matter much, though, because the doctors tell me that, even in the unlikely event I survive this disease, I will not be able to have children. The medications, see.
We could still be married at sunset, Love, if you come to me soon. It won't be fall, or even summer; spring, at the latest, is all I have to look forward to but I can live with that. It snowed again today. I looked out the window at the city lights and watched as the fluffy flakes smothered everything.
Mother can't come in to see me anymore, Love. I'm so very lonely now. People aren't supposed to die alone. I'm still hoping for you, Love, even as I lose the strength to cough the blood from my throat so I can breathe. Hoping takes so little effort and I'll keep it 'til the last but please, Love, find your way to see me.
Longing for your touch,
Ariel
It was the light in the sky. Ridiculous, isn't it, Love? All this time I thought it must be something more complicated, some horrible invention of an enemy that knew where to hit the country where it hurt. No, Love, it was no enemy but ourselves.
The government experimented on the people for so long that no one cared anymore, not really. It came as second nature that they were manipulating this, changing that. All in the name of science, finding cures for the last great diseases of our time. The light in the sky? One of their diseases escaped containment and they tried to cover up their mistake. Tail between their legs, they looked away after their laboratory burned and didn't think to warn the public. It traveled in the ash and then the snow, landing in our backyard a day later. My dog picked it up and got sick. We cared for him and I was infected. Mother was immune, thankfully, and Brother wasn't home at the time. I still don't know where he is.
The story was the same for hundreds of people in our community. We were among the first but the problem only grew. There's a 24-hour period when an infected person can transmit the disease to others before they begin to show symptoms. 24-hours. A person can get on a plane and travel halfway 'round the world in that time, Love, and infect everyone on the plane in the process before anyone could sound the alarm that things were wrong. 24-hours and then you get a bit of a cough, nothing to worry about. Go see your doctor, Love, who will no doubt have developed a cough of his or her own by now, and he'll tell you it's nothing, just some bug that's going around like always. Get lots of rest, have soup, look at old photographs. You follow those instructions because the doctor's always right and then you begin to cough up blood. You go to the hospital, which is flooded by now with cases similar to your own, and the doctor, who is the first person you see in real life that wears a hazardous materials suit, tells you the bad news.
This is the new plague. It's not as efficient as the old ones, thank the government for that, but it's no closer to a cure. The disease has mutated. It can be treated and, oh Love, the person's life can be extended far longer than the original disease's timeline allowed but you'll still be just as dead in a month or so. You're not allowed visitors in that time, either, unless they're one of the few who cannot get the disease. Lucky people, those, the destined caregivers of the dying.
The man assured me, from the safety of his orange rubber shell, that the disease was contained. No others could get sick now. The government had learned from its mistake and put the people under lock and key to protect them.
Love, please get past their Lock and Key. My time is coming soon. I want to meet you before I die. Don't let my last visitor be that uncaring man who represented an uncaring government. I'll fall asleep tonight with the sound of your voice. What will you sound like as you tell me all is well and you'll keep watch? Will I make it to tomorrow to hear another night's voice?
Sweet dreams, Love,
Ariel
I wish I could go home. I wish I could push open the door and hear the dog barking. I wish I could hug Mother and Father and kiss you, Love, and the children. Things weren't supposed to turn out this way, Love, and I know life's not fair. I'm painfully aware of that now. Love, if Brother gives this to you could you please help Mother with my funeral? No parent should have to bury a child and I fear she may have to do it twice. Help her be strong, Love.
Brother is telling me now that I should rest but I'm afraid to close my eyes. You haven't put your arms around me yet to tell me it's okay to sleep. Brother can't do that, it'd be wrong. There are ways only lovers can hold each other, you know. Why won't you come and hold me?
A very nice young man came in today and read to me. Mother was forced to leave before we finished David Copperfield so he picked it up where she left off. He let me touch that book again. I'm afraid I spotted one of the pages with a bloody fingerprint though I tried so hard not to but it was still so wonderful to see it again. On the first page there's a note from my parents. I read it over and over as he held the book in front of me. I miss Mother and Father so very much.
Was that you, Love? Were you the nice young man? If that was you, Love, you broke my heart. You didn't touch me, only my book.
Brother's making me sleep now, he doesn't want to write anymore until I sleep a little.
Goodnight, Love,
Ariel
I only wanted to stare into your eyes, Love, so beautiful. Your eyes aren't chocolate brown, they're green. You have red hair; would we have had redheaded children? I'm sure they would have been beautiful. Love, you have such a wonderful voice. When I sleep tonight I know your voice will be the same as it was yesterday. I dreamed of you telling me to sleep, Love...Andrew. Last night it was your voice that helped me sleep and that's how I know you're my lover. No one I've ever met has done that before, Love, and you'll do it again tonight.
Sleeping soundly,
Ariel
It is very late. Brother was not happy to be woken with the room dark and the shades drawn. I've asked him to call for you and to open the curtains.
I die tonight, Love, I'm sure of it, and I want to see the stars and hear your voice before I sleep. Will you touch my face, brush the hair away from my pale skin, hold my weak hands, and tell me it's all okay? We were supposed to finish the book. We were supposed to do so many things but for some reason the unread ending of that book I already read seems like such a tragedy. Brother says he will read to me while we wait for you and I'm okay with that.
I've waited so long for this night to come and I can wait a bit more.
But now it's time to sleep and I'm so very tired.
Keeping watch a little longer,
Ariel