There's no place like home
By duncan_mcgregor
- 347 reads
In the distance, far away, I can see a light. I always could. Never
knowing what it was, I always relied on it. When I was young - around
eight I guess - it came to me one night like a demon at first, scaring
me, betraying my eyes to fear. I ran to my parent's bedroom, quick and
without a thought of what I had witnessed, just wanting to be warm and
in secure comfort - to forget. But it came again - such things always
do. The next night, fouled by the sting of horror, it visited me again.
That light. Colorful, ever changing in shape and size, leaving a grand
halo in my mind's eye. In less time than I would've thought, I got used
to it. Little children always need some light turned on somewhere in
the alley to secure themselves, to make them comfortable, warm, and
ready to fall asleep and give in to their dreams. This was my light.
There was no need for anything else - just that magic light. And so it
was until a year ago.
I was walking ... on some street I guess. Don't know from where - don't
know where to. A flash - and that girl. On the opposite side, the
beauty of a lifetime. The world at a sudden halt, bathing in the
gracious light of her being. A flash - and that car. I kissed a Chevy
good-night and fell asleep.
A dream. It had to be. Nothing but that light again, stronger than
ever, consuming my whole vision. Just the memory of a world remaining
... and that girl. I saw her, day and night, always the same scene. Her
appearance on the street, the way she turned around and kissed all my
sorrow good-bye with just a smile. That shiny aura around her, like the
saint of all times, turning everything farther away from her darker.
Darker, just because of her being absent. I studied her. Hair, as black
as the night in heaven must be. Eyes, radiating grace and glory. Skin,
as smooth as a white rose on crystal clear water.
Every day I added another detail of her to my memory, and the days
seemed endless. And every day, there was more movement, more of her to
see, the scene got longer. Second for second came to me, very slowly
first, and then increasing in speed as I knew more of her.
And one day - the day I'll never forget - she spoke to me. Just one
word, but the greatest tome to me. The one word that made me feel like
a god that day - "Yes".
I took her hand and together we walked down that street, in
slow-motion I saw her, the wind playing with every strand of her silky
hair. And she would, from time to time, look at me - eye to eye - and
just smile. I could've walked forever.
After some time, we came to a manor, and I had the key. It was my
palace, I knew every inch of it though I had never been there before. I
lifted her up like a new-wed bride and stepped into that house we would
never leave, shutting out the past with the closing door.
We moved directly to the bedroom, loosing all our clothing on the way.
And we made love in that room full of wonderful flowers, filled with
the fragrances of Mother Nature. It felt just like Adam and Eve.
I wish I could tell you that we lived happily like that every after.
But one day, as we were sitting outside in the garden, came he. A knock
on the door - the knock of an inquisitor coming to claim his victims.
It still haunts me some night today.
Paralyzed, we sat there, staring at each other, as if we knew what was
to come. Knock-knock. Nowadays I sometimes wonder what would've
happened if I just hadn't answered. Knock-knock. I got up, leaving my
love behind to wait for my return. Never had I such a heavy path to
walk, feeling doom rising up my neck with every step I took, still
unable not to answer. Reaching the door, extending my arm to that
bright red knob, turning ... slowly ...
Outside, a mid-aged man, dressed in a fine white suit, a dark red tie
and exquisite white leather shoes. He smiled at me and asked for
entrance with his look. No introduction. Just that smile, and I let him
in. He walked down the hallway, leaving me following him as if I was
the guest. He knew my house, and he knew the way to the garden.
Stepping outside, closely watching his every movement, I found her
asleep. Peaceful, as a winter landscape of mountains untouched by human
dignity. He took a seat right beside her. I kept standing, too anxious,
too bound to watching the happening. Gently, he touched her forehead,
caressing her eyebrows, waking her. And she, seeing him, smiled as
sweet as ever, starting the movement of her lips to a greeting she
would never finish. In a sudden rush, he pulled out a large knife and
stabbed right into her heart. Blood, flowing out in waves to her
ceasing heartbeat, was all over both of them at once. And I just stood
there, paralyzed, and scared to death, watching the love of my life die
without being able to do anything to help her. The man in white just
sat there, smiling. I know that I never had a weapon in my house, lest
on me, but I suddenly felt that metal pole in my hands and let my
deepest wish come true. Raising it high above my head, and slashing
down in an instant, hitting him right on the spot, fast as lightning
and hard as a thunderbolt, I killed. He had no chance of escaping.
Suddenly, from all directions, people rushed to the scene, voices
overthrowing each other. Somebody grabbed me, the feeling of a light
sting and some venom entering my body, and everything turned
black.
That beep, penetrating my silence, knocking on my forehead...
I woke in a private hospital room, soft light entering, outside, a
green park. A nurse came in, seemingly astonished to find me awake, and
rushed out to get the doctor. He was a strange person, that doctor. He
told me of things I couldn't quite arrange in my mind, of an accident,
a year, some coma.
The next day, a man in a gray suit visited me. Introducing himself as
Inspector Sussex, he asked me if I knew what had happened.
"I killed a man.", I said.
"No, you didn't. The official psychological report says you were in a
state of non-consciousness, and therefor are not responsible for what
happened. They concluded that it was just some abnormal muscular
movement, nothing anybody can be charged for. So you can go as a free
man as soon as the doctor says so. I just wanted to inform you.
Good-bye."
"Inspector!"
"Yes?"
"Who was that man?"
"He was a psychotherapist, bound on getting you out of your coma after
that car accident last summer. Good-bye now, sir."
I never saw the light again...
(c) August 2000
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