La Mort d'un Meilleur Ami (The Death of a Best-friend)

The day was cold and although the sun had peered out of his abode, the day was dark and cloudy. She walked up to the window. The flowers were still there in their hundreds and thousands, like tiny grains of coloured sand they depicted a slow fading picture of love and admiration for his soul. The dress was hung on the closet door, she sighed as her trembling fingers ran through the soft black fabric. Just like her thoughts, the ripples straightened out ready to fulfil its duty. She looked around the room, all was in its usual place, but, none of it made sense. All of it seemed trivial. All seemed lost. There was a knock on the door. She stopped. Took a deep breath...

            ‘Yeah?’ her thin voice wavered.

            ‘Puis-je entrer?’[1]

            ‘Oui,’[2] she glanced quickly at the mirror in front of her whilst fixing her curls behind her ears, ‘Celine...’

            ‘Ma petit fille douce,’[3] she stroked her head, entwining her fingers into the messy curls, ‘He’s watching you. He will always be watching you.’

            ‘I know.’ She glanced away from the eyes which glistened, feeling the pain only a mother could feel after the loss of a son.

            ‘You can’t stay here forever,’ the voice that once was so calm began to tremble as the grief began to take over. ‘The smell, it still hasn’t left.’

            ‘Death never leaves once it has come.’

The room became silent, both women looked at each other.

‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

The older of the two looked around whilst resting her palm on the youngest’s shoulder, knowing she was the only person who could understand her pain. She knew that from then on her young tanned face would forever reflect her son’s and still she did not want it any other way. The still and cold air brushed against their skin, almost like a spirit trying to caress their wounded hearts...

‘Take your time,’ a tear peered over the rim of her eye and rolled solemnly down her face, ‘Just take your time.’ She looked around the room once more whilst opening the heavy oak door. Her weak smile accompanied the closing door, slow and quiet.

The room was deserted once more, only her cold thoughts and dark desires dwelled with her. She opened the veranda doors. Her eyes searched for the end of the horizon, almost searching for the end of her pain. Her bare foot touched the cold stone sending a surge of reality through her. Her hands grasped the intricate rail. She stood for a few seconds, her feet glued to the hard floor. Her thoughts evolving gradually, framing her memories like wilted roses. Her hands grasped tighter as her feet slipped into the filigree gaps in the rails. Her eyes transfixed on the pool reflecting the horizon.

‘La mort n’est pas la fin,’[4] she murmured whilst her gaze framed the horizon, ‘Death is not the end.’

Slowly she loosened her grip. Her eyes overflowing with tears of sorrow. Her heart was racing as her thoughts blackened. She looked around, there was nobody – only the sea of flowers which had begun to wilt. Her hands shook as she let go of the white rail. The cold air raced into her lungs as she took a deep breath. Her mind became blank as her feet felt the soft cold air cut into them. Her arms floated almost like a cloud as her body raced through the air. As her body slumped onto the hard ground her eyes opened, transfixed, gazing.

Their eyes met hers. She looked at the semi-opened coffin. His features were just about able to make out under the thin flowing veil. That was the moment she knew, that was reality – a reality she couldn’t run away from. She looked at the piece of paper in her hands, the blotches made it hard to read. She looked up again, they all expected something – they all expected comfort. She put down the paper on the wooden stand. Her hand wrapped itself around her pendant. Her eyes closed. His eyes met hers, her heart sank as her soul took refuge, as the words resounded...

‘We will always be together.’ His voice was soft and calm. His smile was tender, whilst his eyes dimmed with sorrow and pain.

She opened her eyes as his transfixed on hers. Her tears cascaded down her face as his last words resounded. She clasped tighter and tighter until the stabbing pain reduced some of her soul’s despair. As a drop of blood streamed down her wrist, she looked up, and although the words hurt her deeper than anything else ever could, she gathered the remains of her strength.

‘Une âme pure, un vrai vainqueur, un vrai héros. Nous vous aimerons toujours. Éternellement vous habiterez dans mon coeur. Reste dans la paix mon Ange. Maintenant vous êtes vraiment libres.’[5] Her voice was sturdy, trying to fight the pain eagerly awaiting for an apparent moment of weakness in order to escape. Once again she looked at the coffin, her hands trembled as she faced the fact that she would never feel his tender touch, hear his sweet voice or smell his warm breath so close to her that it became a melange of both of their breaths. She looked at his mother, her tears flowed into her melancholic smile. ‘Now you’re free, darling Angel.’ She mimed as she walked to the open casket. Everyone’s eyes followed her. She lifted the veil. His face was pale, more pale than usual but still Death had not stolen his beauty. She let go of her pendant, a drop of dark red blood dripped on the perfect bright white shirt. She looked as the ripple effect created a perfect circle on his chest. ‘Eternally in my heart. I will love you just as I always have.’ She caressed his cheek with her humid fingers, ‘We will always be together,’ she planted a soft, tender kiss on his pursed lips, ‘I promise.’

---

[1] ‘Can I come in?’

[2] ‘Yes’

[3] ‘My sweet baby girl,’

[4] ‘Death is not the end,’

[5] ‘A pure soul, a true winner, a real hero. We will love you forever. Eternally you’ll live in my heart. Rest in peace my Angel. Now you are truly free.’

La Maladie

He walked for a while. His head was still banging with the fear for tomorrow. What would he do? Without her everything was so obscure and even the sweetest things in life weren’t as sweet. He had been prepared for this since he was a boy, he had been merely two years old when his parents found out and from then they had done their best to prepare him. He sighed as he approached her kneeling figure on the sand.

‘Here you are,’ his voice seemed a bit lost in himself.

‘I’m sorry I ran. I didn’t want...’

‘Schiuuu...Everything will be ok,’ he passed his arm around her shoulders as an attempt to comfort her.

‘How can you say that? Nothing is going to be ok...life will never be what it was. I need you!’

‘You don’t need me, you never have.’

‘I do...I need you. If you go, I go. I’ll find a way of going with you, no matter what!’

‘I have done all I was meant to do. My dream has come true, but you, you need to stay. You’re going to be great. Remember, you are what you make yourself to be,’ he replied calmly.

‘This isn’t one of your speeches. It isn’t one of those -I think therefore I am- Descartes philosophies,’ she looked down into the humid sand.

‘We are all philosophies in our own rights. No one will ever perceive your life the way you do. Everyone surrounding us will have their interpretation, but no one will actually know the truth – not even if you tell them.’

‘I don’t want anyone to know my life. I just want to be invisible, you’re the star.’

‘No. I’m not a star. It’s easy to shine when you have bright lights surrounding you. To be a star you need to shine even without all those things.’

‘Aren’t you scared?’

He sniffed, the sea air was beginning to get to him, and as he looked up to the horizon he tried not to give much away.

‘Answer me!’

‘Yes, and no. I’m scared of getting lost without you there to hold my hand.’

‘I’ll be there. No matter what - I’ll hold your hand.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s still so soon. You’re so young.’

‘But, I’ve lived.’

‘It’s not fair.’

‘Why?’

‘Because.’

‘There are things that not even we can stop.’

‘You’re so calm.’

‘No point in fighting it.’

‘But the doctors...’

‘Rest. Rest, isn’t the answer. I have to make everyday count, every hour, every minute.’

‘But. Please.’

‘It’s my dream. I won it, and now I’m going to live it until my last breath.’

‘You will die. If you don’t rest a while - you will die.’

‘Even if I rest, I will die. Someday we all die.’

‘You’re only twenty-three. You’re young and beautiful.’

‘I have to see this till my end.’

‘I don’t want there to be an end. You promised you would stay forever. You swore that we’d always be together.’

‘And we will always be together. When I’m up there, I’ll be watching you, and I’ll live right here and there,’ he tapped her chest and then her temple.

‘What if I forget? What if one day I wake up and you’re gone?’

‘That will never happen. I’ll be with you forever.’

‘And Ana?’

‘Her too.’

‘I’ll miss you everyday...every moment.’

‘You’ll be fine, it will be as if I’m always on tour and you’re always in England.’

‘No, it will be different.’

‘No, it won’t. Whenever you need to talk to me, I will listen and even though you won’t hear me physically you’ll hear me in your heart. I will be there, every step you take and every time you fall I’ll be there to help you get right back up.’

‘You are a star.’

‘You help me shine,’ he smiled as he cupped her face in his hands and wiped her tears.

‘Comme vous sont une étoile brillante sur la terre, vous serez un ange précieux dans le ciel,’[1] she leant forward gently resting her forehead on his.

---

[1] ‘Like you are a bright star on earth, you’ll be a precious angel in heaven,’

Sins

She looked in the mirror. Her lips were perfectly lined in red. Her green eyes looked misty and vivid in contrast with her deep copper hair. Her pale freckled skin gleamed with radiance as hands slid down her body in harmony with the emerald green silk dress, moulding every voluptuous curve. She stopped at mid thigh, the stockings had slipped. She pulled them up with a slight soft tug. She put on the brand new, shiny black stilettos. Turned sideways as her hands slid down her back and slowly caressed her flat womb. She could just about make out the time from the blurry reflection of the hall clock on the mirror. She couldn’t be late – she had to leave before he got home. She picked up the small clutch bag – black, it looked really good with the shoes. Not a bad buy – she thought as she grabbed the keys and threw them in the bag together with the make-up and the small vile of perfume. She wrapped the soft pashmina neatly around her shoulders.

As she opened the front door of the house she picked up the car keys and in one sturdy pull she slammed the front door shut. Her heart beat steadily faster. She looked at the car clock, he’d be arriving home soon. She sighed as a noisy fire engine sped past her. Her eyes shone with their own reflection in the rear-view mirror. There was quite a bit of traffic, but she was a bit early anyway. She starred attentively at her full alarming red lips with satisfaction. She stopped right in front of the hotel. She sat for a few seconds thinking of the last time they had met.

Her hands clenched the sides of her thighs in a bid to grasp reality. He hadn’t changed. His jeans moulded his body as the white semi unbuttoned shirt left little to the imagination. His hazel – green eyes met hers as an agreeing satisfactory smile formed. Her body shuddered as his hand slowly swept over the base of her back. Her back straightened displaying all her curves, almost like curtains opening at the beginning of a play.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispered

‘And I you,’ she turned so that their lips had no choice but to touch.

His hand clenched her hip, pushing her into him. She sighed. The bell boy called the elevator. They stood side by side. Quiet. He encouraged her into the lift with a very subtle guiding push as he followed close behind her.

            He smiled at the older couple in the lift. The woman must have recognised him, he could tell by her excited, yet graceful shy smile. The man nodded approvingly at him as he held his wife’s hand. Anais looked at the older woman, she smiled as she tried to contain her envy. She would never be as happy. She looked at Peter. His chiselled face radiated a warm dominant quality. As her eyes fell to the floor they caught a glimpse of the shiny gold band on her finger. The woman looked at her with a solemn understanding smile. The doors opened, he lead her out. They walked to the heavy wooden doors.

            She walked to the balcony and leant over the side. The Seine swept grudgingly. Her fiery short curls wrapped themselves around her pale features. Her legs sinuous from the childish dress called to him, as he looked at her through the semi-opened glass doors. He watched as she reveled in the moment, just as sensuous as he had remembered her.      ‘I will love you,’ he whispered in a melodious breathy voice, ‘I will make you mine.’ He twirled her round, whilst the weight of his body pushed hers onto the marble filigree balustrade. Her eyes taking in the paleness of his beauty, familiarizing herself with his body once again – realizing how much she had missed it.

            She woke up with the loud ringing. As she wrapped the sheet around her naked body she stumbled through the pieces of clothing until she found her clutch. She opened it frantically. They gave up. She looked at the time – it was late. She followed the trail of clothes dressing herself as quickly as she possibly could. He stood looking at her. She had been his – even if it was for a few brief hours. Now, she had to go back. They both had to go back to reality, where she belonged to another and he would not see her again until he returned from another league of the tour. He embraced her from behind, almost as to try impeding her from leaving him.

             The way home was clear. She walked in slowly. Quietly she made her way to the bedroom. The house was unusually still. There was no sign of him. Perhaps he had been caught up at work. As she sat down on the sofa there was a knock on the door. There was an eerie chill. She opened the door once she had realized it was safe.

            ‘Good evening.’ The policeman’s serious face surveyed her.

            ‘Evening,’ she started to imagine thousands of scenarios. ‘Come in.’ She lead him to the meticulously decorated reception room, ‘Can I help?’

            ‘I’m very sorry.’ He tried to soften the blow, ‘Your husband was involved in an accident.’

            ‘Is he ok?’ She felt her blood freeze in her veins. ‘Where is he?’

            ‘I’m ever so sorry.’

    ‘No.’ she starred blankly as flashes of him attacked her. Her mouth dried. Her eyes darkened as her pale skin lost all traces of colour. Her body sank into the sofa. She closed her eyes trying to block out the images as the guilt swelled within her.

All Alone

All alone -

I'm all alone,

abandoned,

deserted -

all alone.

Just me and my thoughts.

Just me and my fears.

Just me and my oughts.

Just me and my dreams.

I'm all alone,

abandoned,

deserted -

all alone.

Me --> You

Me à You

I speak à You shout

I cry à You laugh

I smile à You frown

I sing à You cringe

I go à You stay

I change à You’re still the same

I like à You detest

I try à You ignore

I end à You regret

I laugh à You cry

I dance à You envy

I smile à You frown

I guess some things never change.

From out of the dark

From out of the dark

and into the light.

A circular mark,

a candle burns bright.

 

I look towards the sky,

my song I do sing.

Spirits soar higher,

and gifts I bring.

 

I offer all,

hearken to my call.

I feel you near,

let go of my fear.

 

Candle burns higher;

my spirits set free.

Hotter than fire,

this magic will be.

 

Let it come round,

from under the ground.

To form with my own sound and,

to be bound.

 

Around me I feel

the spirits so free.

Before you I kneel,

the spell I now seal.

 

Let all hatred cease

and let there be peace.

These words that I say

must now come to an end.

Let your spirit descend.

Feeling With My Pen

Lonely, I’m lonely.

Starting a new chapter,

a new echo – but

the same voice.

 

Silence, I’m silent.

Writing the new chapter,

a new style – still

the same theme.

 

Change, I’m changing.

Editing this new chapter,

a new mistake – with

the same end.

 

Feeling, I’m feeling.

Reading this chapter,

a new meaning – ‘cause

I’m feeling with my pen.

Kindled Souls

Vanya sat up straight. She couldn’t ignore the faint glimmer coming from the calendar hung on her old mahogany door. She looked at the gaps between the door and its matching frame. She rubbed her sore eyes. It was all in her head. All those weird dreams. All those weird moments when she thought she was being watched, and at times even followed. The wind outside howled, almost hypnotizing her with its rhythm. She opened her eyes, hoping that she was just imagining it – like all the other times. The gaps were still brightly illuminated and a faint trail of light shone from the keyhole.

            ‘Go away. Go away. Please go away.’ She repeated as awkward noises echoed from the other side of the heavy door, which seemed to have faded into the unusual darkness of the room.

            ‘Ma’am?’ A strange voice called from the corridor. ‘Ma’am! Quick – there’s a fire – quick!’ the woman’s voice sounded breathless and alarmed. Her tired steps became louder and faster. ‘Ma’am – fire – fi…fire in the manor!’ She swung the door open, ‘miss – ma’am – get up! We have to get out, we must get out of this hell hole.’ The servant pulled the covers away from her, ‘the manor is under attack! Come we must leave!’

            ‘What? Huh? Who?’ Vanya closed her eyes tighter, pressing them together in deep panic. ‘Not happening…no…not happening, all head…all in head.’

            ‘Ma’am get up now!’ She grasped her wrist fiercely tight and pulled her out of bed onto her feet. She buckled a bit under the servant’s force. ‘Are you mad? The master will kill you!’

            ‘No!’ Vanya pulled her wrist from the servant’s grasp. ‘You’re just an illusion. In my head, you’re just in my head – that’s where you are!’

            ‘Nonsense child!’ The servant dragged her out of the room.

            ‘What? Where am I?’ Vanya panicked as the fire bellow them spread furiously. ‘Who are you?’

            ‘This is not the time for games young miss.’ She continued to drag her down the stairs occasionally causing her to stumble and cry in pain.

            ‘I can’t go!’ Vanya held on tight to the banister. ‘I can’t. I have to go back – let me go!’ She kicked at the servant as her hands grasped the banister tighter hopelessly, as the servant dragged her towards an open door.

            ‘Nonsense! Stop all this nonsense…now! If the master finds out – Oh God!’ She drew a cross across her chest in deep anguish and fright, ‘he’ll kill you. He’ll gut you in front of all!’ She pulled Vanya’s shoulders into her hands and shook her, hoping sense would come into her head.

            ‘What? Please, you don’t understand! This – I’m – please!’ Vanya stopped as she saw the fear in the strange woman’s eyes.

            ‘You should not have gotten involved with Master Liam. You should have known better!’ She continued to lead her through the old burning manor.

            ‘Who’s Liam? Where am I?’

            ‘Miss, please, come with me!’

            ‘But – my home, my mum…dad and Greg…’ she looked desperate to the top of the stairs, hoping her parents and younger brother would run down after her. ‘We can’t leave them. We must save them – please!’

            ‘The master and the mistress still haven’t returned from the party, and the young master has been taken care of.’

            ‘The young master?’ Vanya found herself completely confused and dazed.

            ‘Young Gregory has been escorted down to the stables.’ The servant woman lead her through the dark door, through a narrow corridor and into what looked like an old medieval kitchen. ‘Mr Wheeler will be waiting on us.’

            ‘Who?’ Vanya’s perception kept on getting more and more blurred. It was all so real, she could feel everything vividly – even the heat.

            ‘Oh! Please miss, this is not the time to jest with me!’ The woman tugged at her, pulling her closer to her breast.

            Vanya’s anxiety grew. Her breaths became heavier and faster, as the hellish flames seemed to surround them. There were loud screams and painful wails. Her feet and legs felt cold and muddy. She looked down her body, almost checking it was still there. Her eyes widened with fright and confusion. Her cute, girly PJs had been replaced by a long white bed-dress, her feet were bare and her skin was unusually pale.

            ‘What’s happening to me?’ Vanya grasped the servant’s hand tighter as she looked to her for some sort of answer – an explanation. ‘Please tell me what’s happening to me. Where am I?’

            ‘My dear child, what folly is this?’

            ‘Folly? I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where I am. I just want to go home!’

            ‘Weeping will not aid you my dear.’

            ‘Please, wake up. This is just another weird nightmare.’ She closed her eyes tighter as she felt her body dragged through the hot muddy courtyard.

            ‘If the master finds out about you and master Liam – Oh dear girl, you are done for!’

            ‘Who’s Liam? Who are you? What’s happening?’

            ‘The Creatures- they’re attacking again!’ Esmeralda tried to hide her fear, but she couldn’t any longer.

            ‘The creatures?’ Vanya felt her boiling bright red blood freeze into a slush in her blue veins. ‘What creatures?’

            ‘You know…’

            ‘No, I don’t. I don’t even know where I am!’ Her irritation shone through.

            ‘The…the vampirus. You know, master Liam’s kind…’ Vanya looked around her in fear and disbelief.

            ‘What?’

            ‘Ma’am come with us. Put an end to all this carnage.’ The plain servant begged.

            ‘Carnage? What’s happening? Please, I’ll do whatever you ask me to – just tell me what’s happening.’

            ‘You betrayed your pure blood with the blood of the creatures. Now we all must flee, or they will take you from us. They will bleed us dry.’

            ‘But…all because of me?’

            ‘You shouldn’t have mixed your blood with theirs, miss. Now they want you, they can claim you for their own.’ She blocked the stable’s hind doors in fear.

            ‘But I…I haven’t. I didn’t mean to. It was just a game. Cruz and I were playing, just playing. We found that old box in the attic and - and we thought, we…’

            ‘I know my dear. This isn’t your fault, we should’ve watched you closely.’

            ‘Huh?’

            ‘Playing with gypsy children, I warned them this would happen.’

            ‘But. Cruz – she’s not a gypsy, she’s my cousin.’

            ‘Nonsense child! Do not further tarnish your good name.’

            ‘Alda! I thought you’d never get ‘ere,’ Wheeler opened the carriage door helping both of them in, ‘the master and the mistress ‘ave already gone, they took the li’l one wit’ ‘em.’

            ‘Where we headin’?’

            ‘The docks.’

            ‘There are loads more people out there that need help!’ Vanya pierced her head under Wheeler’s arm as she tried to barge her way down from the coach. She felt her insides burn with terror and disgust.

            ‘No, we must leave now!’ Esmeralda pulled her back into the coach and pushed her onto the seat opposite hers.

            ‘May I escort the lovely ladies?’

            ‘Stay away from ‘em!’ Wheeler attempted to push the tall pale humanlike creature in front of him.

            ‘She’s mine!’ He sounded furious as he pushed Wheeler aside and snatched open the carriage door. ‘Where is she?’

            ‘Gone. She’s gone.’ Wheeler looked inside the carriage with relieved astonishment.

            ‘The gypsy. Where is she? Where has she taken her?’

            ‘Somewhere you can’t find ‘em.’

            ‘Do not trifle with me Wheeler!’

            ‘I can’t let you ‘arm ‘em.’

            ‘She is mine. She drank of my blood!’

            ‘She ‘asn’t your mark.’

            ‘She’ll have it soon enough! Vanity is mine!’ He grasped Wheeler’s throat as he pushed him up against the wall, ‘tell me where she is.’

            ‘No.’ Wheeler tried to desperately gasp for air.

            ‘Tell me or die,’ Liam’s eyes lit with anger and frustration, ‘I don’t want to kill you old man.’

            ‘I can’t tell you, Liam.’

            ‘You’re my father. Be loyal to me.’

            ‘You sold your soul.’ Wheeler’s eyes rimmed with tears.

            ‘I had no choice. You know it, I couldn’t be a nobody – not when I love her.’

            ‘You ‘ad a choice and you still ‘ave one.’ As Liam’s grip loosened he could speak more freely. ‘Whether you kill me or not – you will never find ‘er.’

            ‘I will. Even if I search all eternity – I will find her.’ Liam grasped Wheeler’s throat tighter so that he could feel his veins swell.

            Vanya still couldn’t believe anything that was happening, and now she found herself yet again in a different place – a strange place. One minute she was in the coach with the servant woman and the next it was as though her body had ceased to exist and her soul was floating through time and space.

            ‘Miss – you alright?’ Esmeralda reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet.

            ‘What happened? How…?’ She was lost looking for words.

            ‘Old gypsy magic.’ She gave her a sort of dry worried wink.

            ‘But, you said…you’re a gypsy?’

            ‘Schiu! The master and mistress can never know.’

            ‘Why?’

            ‘Us gypsies aren’t taken to very well, just like in your time.’

            ‘My time? So you know? You knew all along?’

            ‘Yes. You and my young miss are kindled souls.’

            ‘Kindled what?’

            ‘You’re the embodiment of young Vanity’s lost soul. Liam’s despair summoned you. He still looks for her, hoping to find her.’

            ‘But, I’m – I’m just…’

            ‘Your soul calls to his. You must block all this from your mind. If he finds you, he’ll find her. You must sleep. Now, you are safe.’ Esmeralda took her in her arms and embraced her. Her voice soothed her almost like a drug forcing her to sleep.

Vanya sat up. The sun shone brightly in her eyes. She looked around her, she had never been more satisfied to wake up in her bed. She still wasn’t certain if it all had been just a dream or reality.