ArtemisX
Pokemon Noob
Warning: Extremely depressing.
Last year (around December of '09), I was 'inspired' (read: coerced) into writing something, after possibly a year or more of hiatus. A couple hours and a few shed tears later, this is what was on my screen:
-----
Alone
Why did you have to go...? You knew the roads were terrible. There was no one else on the roads. There was no reason to be going so fast. I don't care if you thought we needed food. The stores are all closed, but you insisted that there must be somewhere open. Even if you had to bother a farmer. I told you we have enough to get by. Now the road is marred with black marks, the snowy ditch filled with twisted metal...
He sat next to his lover's bed, unmoving, watching the monitors as they registered the slowly-fading life signs. The doctors had offered for him to sleep in the waiting room, or even in one of their offices, but he refused to budge. Now, sitting there, holding a pale hand in his own, he could literally feel the strength leave the other's body. There had been nothing they could do, not even life-support seemed to be working...
We both knew it would come to this... Me sitting by your deathbed, looking not a day older than when we first met as you slowly fade into nothingness. I know that, somewhere, you'll be back, but you won't remember me, not at first. Not until you find another lover, another mate. Only then will you know of me, but by then it will be too late. Your feelings will be but memories, never to be regained. Even if we do meet again, if it isn't too painful for me to bear. Even as I think about you now, willing you to just pull through, the beeping slows down further...
He looked up as he registered this fact and noticed the dropped numbers. He stroked over the suddenly cold-feeling hand and leaned down to kiss the dying man's forehead, nosing past a tuft of black hair. Just as he did so, he felt a small movement and looked down. Green eyes, once bright, dimmed now by the inevitable, stared up at him, half-lidded. He felt a tear run down through the black fur on his cheek as he whispered to his lover, soothing little nothings only they understood. Pale-blue lips smiled and started to move, forming a single phrase before the green eyes dimmed further and slipped closed, the silence in the room broken by a loud, high-pitched, continuous beep. The only other person in the room, dressed in a white lab-coat, walked up and placed his hand on the man's shoulder. He went unheard as he tried to reassure the sobbing man...
No... I don't want you to leave. You can't leave me like this. It's too soon. We had so much ahead of us. I can't lose you. Why not me? Can't you let me take your place? It should be me...
A few hours later, he walked through the door to their house. It was just his house now. He stripped off his jacket and boots, the silence in the house feeling empty and dead. His footsteps were soundless as he walked through the rooms, half-expecting to be greeted by a voice from the next room, almost believing he would see his lover standing just around the next corner. The door to the bedroom opened on silent hinges, swinging back closed with a muted click behind him. He walked up to the bed and sat down, reaching over and slowly taking a picture from the nightstand. He examined it through his tears. A pair stood side-by-side holding hands, one shorter than the other by only a couple inches, but now it was he himself that felt small, abandoned, alone...
I'll never get to see you smile again... Those good times we had, our memories together, are just that; fading memories, and no longer ours, just mine. The plans we made, wanting to have more moments like those in the past, will never happen. I was always there to comfort you, to wipe away your tears. I'm crying now; where is my comfort? I would protect you, would fight away your fears. I'm afraid; who will protect me? I can't bring myself to believe you're actually gone. I will dream about you, wake up and wonder why you're not beside me. I will think about you, look up and wonder where you've gone. I want to reach out and hold your hand, to know that you'll always be with me, but there's no hand to hold, it's too late...
Tears dropped onto the glass front of the photo, and it slipped from his fingers to land on the floor between his feet. He stared after it for several moments before standing and leaving the room, dreading even as he did so the lonely silence that awaited him. He simply wandered through the rooms, thoughts and memories triggered anew as he glanced at the decor, the clutter, the orderly disarray the place was always in. In one room, he would think back to picking out the color of the walls, standing and arguing together over which would match the floor. He had been wrong, of course, and lost. Another room, his eyes would alight on a pile of pamphlets and remember sitting together planning a vacation, agreeing with each other on where and when it should be. It was called off, of course, because of the snow; the airports were closed, and they lost the money they had invested in rooms, reservations, and tickets. A step over a third threshold, and he would nearly trip over a misaligned bookshelf, the pain in his stubbed toe finally bringing him back in touch with reality, and he sank down to the floor, back against the archway, head in his hands...
I'm tired of being here... I'm alone, lost. I'm hearing your voice; it's driving me insane. If you're really gone, why do you taunt me? Why can't I just forget you, as you've forgotten me? Why can't you just leave me, leave my memories forever? If it's better to have loved and lost, who is it better for? I have no place here, it brings too much pain...
He slowly got to his feet and went back into the bedroom. Suitcases were sitting in the closet, never unpacked after their vacation got called off. He picked one up and double-checked it. After throwing a select few more things in with his clothes, he carried it to the front door, barely taking time to throw on his jacket and still-damp boots before leaving. The lock clicked into place behind him. He slowly made his way up to the car through the still-falling snow and opened the door. He threw the suitcase in the backseat before sitting behind the wheel. He pulled out of the driveway, turned right, and never looked back. The only thing in his thoughts now was the last thing his lover said to him...
I will cherish you...
Last year (around December of '09), I was 'inspired' (read: coerced) into writing something, after possibly a year or more of hiatus. A couple hours and a few shed tears later, this is what was on my screen:
-----
Alone
Why did you have to go...? You knew the roads were terrible. There was no one else on the roads. There was no reason to be going so fast. I don't care if you thought we needed food. The stores are all closed, but you insisted that there must be somewhere open. Even if you had to bother a farmer. I told you we have enough to get by. Now the road is marred with black marks, the snowy ditch filled with twisted metal...
He sat next to his lover's bed, unmoving, watching the monitors as they registered the slowly-fading life signs. The doctors had offered for him to sleep in the waiting room, or even in one of their offices, but he refused to budge. Now, sitting there, holding a pale hand in his own, he could literally feel the strength leave the other's body. There had been nothing they could do, not even life-support seemed to be working...
We both knew it would come to this... Me sitting by your deathbed, looking not a day older than when we first met as you slowly fade into nothingness. I know that, somewhere, you'll be back, but you won't remember me, not at first. Not until you find another lover, another mate. Only then will you know of me, but by then it will be too late. Your feelings will be but memories, never to be regained. Even if we do meet again, if it isn't too painful for me to bear. Even as I think about you now, willing you to just pull through, the beeping slows down further...
He looked up as he registered this fact and noticed the dropped numbers. He stroked over the suddenly cold-feeling hand and leaned down to kiss the dying man's forehead, nosing past a tuft of black hair. Just as he did so, he felt a small movement and looked down. Green eyes, once bright, dimmed now by the inevitable, stared up at him, half-lidded. He felt a tear run down through the black fur on his cheek as he whispered to his lover, soothing little nothings only they understood. Pale-blue lips smiled and started to move, forming a single phrase before the green eyes dimmed further and slipped closed, the silence in the room broken by a loud, high-pitched, continuous beep. The only other person in the room, dressed in a white lab-coat, walked up and placed his hand on the man's shoulder. He went unheard as he tried to reassure the sobbing man...
No... I don't want you to leave. You can't leave me like this. It's too soon. We had so much ahead of us. I can't lose you. Why not me? Can't you let me take your place? It should be me...
A few hours later, he walked through the door to their house. It was just his house now. He stripped off his jacket and boots, the silence in the house feeling empty and dead. His footsteps were soundless as he walked through the rooms, half-expecting to be greeted by a voice from the next room, almost believing he would see his lover standing just around the next corner. The door to the bedroom opened on silent hinges, swinging back closed with a muted click behind him. He walked up to the bed and sat down, reaching over and slowly taking a picture from the nightstand. He examined it through his tears. A pair stood side-by-side holding hands, one shorter than the other by only a couple inches, but now it was he himself that felt small, abandoned, alone...
I'll never get to see you smile again... Those good times we had, our memories together, are just that; fading memories, and no longer ours, just mine. The plans we made, wanting to have more moments like those in the past, will never happen. I was always there to comfort you, to wipe away your tears. I'm crying now; where is my comfort? I would protect you, would fight away your fears. I'm afraid; who will protect me? I can't bring myself to believe you're actually gone. I will dream about you, wake up and wonder why you're not beside me. I will think about you, look up and wonder where you've gone. I want to reach out and hold your hand, to know that you'll always be with me, but there's no hand to hold, it's too late...
Tears dropped onto the glass front of the photo, and it slipped from his fingers to land on the floor between his feet. He stared after it for several moments before standing and leaving the room, dreading even as he did so the lonely silence that awaited him. He simply wandered through the rooms, thoughts and memories triggered anew as he glanced at the decor, the clutter, the orderly disarray the place was always in. In one room, he would think back to picking out the color of the walls, standing and arguing together over which would match the floor. He had been wrong, of course, and lost. Another room, his eyes would alight on a pile of pamphlets and remember sitting together planning a vacation, agreeing with each other on where and when it should be. It was called off, of course, because of the snow; the airports were closed, and they lost the money they had invested in rooms, reservations, and tickets. A step over a third threshold, and he would nearly trip over a misaligned bookshelf, the pain in his stubbed toe finally bringing him back in touch with reality, and he sank down to the floor, back against the archway, head in his hands...
I'm tired of being here... I'm alone, lost. I'm hearing your voice; it's driving me insane. If you're really gone, why do you taunt me? Why can't I just forget you, as you've forgotten me? Why can't you just leave me, leave my memories forever? If it's better to have loved and lost, who is it better for? I have no place here, it brings too much pain...
He slowly got to his feet and went back into the bedroom. Suitcases were sitting in the closet, never unpacked after their vacation got called off. He picked one up and double-checked it. After throwing a select few more things in with his clothes, he carried it to the front door, barely taking time to throw on his jacket and still-damp boots before leaving. The lock clicked into place behind him. He slowly made his way up to the car through the still-falling snow and opened the door. He threw the suitcase in the backseat before sitting behind the wheel. He pulled out of the driveway, turned right, and never looked back. The only thing in his thoughts now was the last thing his lover said to him...
I will cherish you...