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I'm With You
| Passions in Prose |
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I'm With You |
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A Beautiful Disaster Member
since 2007-01-13
Posts 409 |
I’m With You “Is it worth it?” – April said quietly to herself, looking at the dark night sky with eyes, full of tears. Tears of love. Tears of sorrow. Tears of remorse. “Is it worth living if the most important part of this play, called life, is missing?” – she thought. April, the only main heroine, but not the only writer of her life’s script, had been writing this part for years, but the one who was supposed to actually play it on the ‘stage’ strongly disliked it. She had always known that and tried her best to rewrite it, being more and more careful with every attempt. But Chris (that was the name of her hero – hero, and she was not afraid of that word, sounding proud and obliging him to many deeds that were not characteristic of him at all, which April could certainly see, but preferred to keep her eyes closed to) was harsh – possibly, he was afraid of the responsibility, afraid of playing that most important part badly and ruining the whole play, possibly, he refused because it was April’s, not someone else’s script. “But why not to give it all a try, at least? – the lady kept contemplating. – It is much more likely that my life will be ruined without him taking part in it… even if he is not sure he’ll cope well enough, but still, he doesn’t turn away from me, it will mean he’s not indifferent. And nothing can ruin my life as much as indifference of someone, so dearly beloved.” She stopped for a moment. “Much more likely? No – evidently!” All these bitter thoughts were instilling the feeling of sadness, completely impossible to overcome. Swallowing her tears, April came closer to the window and opened it. The coldness of the severe wind, so refreshing, waving her hair so that she looked much more lively and even more beautiful, brought her to life for a moment. When April calmed down a bit, she closed the window, laid herself down on the sofa, hid her head under the blanket, which gave her an illusion of hiding from all the world and its endless cruelty, and said with a note of genuine sorrow in her voice: “I wish I’d fall asleep now and never ever wake up.” Didn’t she know how careful one had to be with words? A word is something that has a great power – it can save a life or completely destroy it, it can never be taken back, so the imprint it leaves is always tangible. Sure she did. But if she said something, she seriously meant it. April was sleeping all the night long. All the next day long. Another night, another day. And in a week’s time she was deep in her sleep. But nobody even knew. How would they find out if they never called her or thought of dropping in when passed by her house. Yes, indifference can really kill any living soul. However, there was one person who seemed to be not so careless. His inner voice had been desperately trying to tell him something, but it wasn’t possible to make any words out… except one. And this word was “April.” This person noticed that the windows of April’s house had been dark for all this time, and the atmosphere around it had been rather weird and even deadly. Yes, this person was Chris. Late in the evening, when Chris happened to pass by that house again, something urged him to stop. He came closer to the door and rang a bell. No one answered. He rang again, more persistently this time. But there was still no reply. Then he knocked at the door with more strength than he thought he had and suddenly noticed that the door wasn’t locked. Chris stepped inside. “April!” – he called. “April, dear, it is Chris!’ Silence. “April, are you there?” She wasn’t. This all seemed to be much more than just weird to Chris, but he managed to keep his temper. He went upstairs, right to April’s room. Seeing the lady lying with her head covered with a blanket, he rushed to her, pretty sure something was wrong with her. But she was completely fine. Even more than fine – blissfully unaware. Unaware of everything that was taking place around. And… unaware of her beloved sitting right next to her. Chris pulled the blanket away and stroked April’s face tenderly. He wanted to look into her deep beautiful eyes that had always had that mysterious shine (which had been just constant tears… if he had only known), but they were tightly closed. He took April by the hand and held it tightly, as trying to say: “Don’t worry, I’m here beside you!” April did not react in any way. For a moment Chris got frightened that she was dead, but he suddenly realized what nonsense it was – her hands were warm, he could feel the pulse (however, very low) in her veins, he could hear her quietly breathing. Chris got completely lost. He couldn’t understand what exactly was happening. April was lying there, not dead yet, not alive already. No, she couldn’t be pretending, Chris thought – no human being was able to pretend so truthfully. “April… - he said with a note of frustration in his voice. – April…” “Did you call me?” – said a well-known voice behind his back. Chris turned his head and almost fainted at that very moment. April stood in front of him, with a sour expression on her face, in the same short white dress, decorated with lace, having a beautiful décolleté, as the ‘living corpse’ was wearing. He turned his head to the bed again – the ‘living corpse’ was still lying there. April’s twin came up to Chris and took him by the hand. She looked exhausted, but very charming and lovely at the same time. Pulling his hand, she made her way to the mirror, hanging behind the back of the sleeping lady. Chris was too frightened to resist, speechless to wonder what the hell was going on. Unwillingly, he followed the twin. When they came up to the mirror, she said firmly: “Now close your eyes.” Chris obeyed. Suddenly he stopped feeling the ground under his feet. This lasted for only several seconds though. April’s voice told him to open his eyes, but when he did, he couldn’t see the twin anymore. Chris found himself in April’s room, only it was really different from the room he had been in several minutes earlier. The bed stood in the other corner, it was carefully covered with a plaid; there was an ideal order in the room – this is how it had looked several months ago, when he had been there for the last time. On the table papers of miscellaneous sizes and shapes were scattered. Having made sure that there was no one else in the room, Chris started reading everything that was written on those papers. There were mostly love poems, all of them were devoted to him, and he had certainly read all of them before. He recalled only several ones when reading, however, all the other ones appeared new, and so, even more interesting to him. Reading all those poems, Chris was amazed by the depth of the words, unusual metaphors and the sincerity of each word, each phrase, by the neat and beautiful handwriting. For the first time ever he thought with great pride: “This all has been written for me, and only for me!” The words that were crossed out were of a particular interest for Chris. He was very much surprised to see how hard it had been for April to choose the right words. All the pure confessions and honest revelations that had scared Chris so much were replaced with the sentences that seemed more neutral… seemed, but never were. The deep meaning was only not lying on the surface, it was hidden deeply, so that it sounded not so frightening. On several papers there were April’s diary notes. And there had been absolutely no need to cross something out while making them – she had made those notes just for herself. Chris hesitated really much before reading the notes, but he thought that if he had been brought there intently, and the papers were right in front of him, he had to read them for some reason. Chris thought it could help April somehow, and his conscience let him take the papers. Each of the notes was about him, as he had expected. The emotions he felt at that moment were complicated and rather contradictory. He was greatly delighted that despite all the pain he had brought April (and he realized it pretty well already) not a single word of anger was said about him, everything bad that he had done was understood, justified and, what is more, forgiven. The sentence that stated April had forgiven him for everything, even for what he had not done yet, touched his heart really much. At the same time he was still frightened by her strong devotion, by love, overwhelming her. He realized that she was a human, just like everyone else, she also had feelings, she could get hurt no matter how strong she was. Having got that thought, he suddenly caught sight of April, sitting on the window sill. She was no longer in that white dress – she was just wrapped in a large towel; she looked much more desperate than ever; she was crying bitter tears, which turned black from her mascara, but even that did not lessen the enigmatic beauty of her face. The song that Chris and April had listened to together for a thousand times started playing, April began crying even more, Chris also burst into tears. He stretched his arms to April, going to hug her, but he just couldn’t feel her in his arms. She was there, but she was a wraith. She was invisible, but she was real. “I’m sorry, April…” – was everything Chris could say. As soon as these words –the main words - were pronounced, he found himself beside April’s bed again, only in front of the other mirror – the one that was hanging in front of the still sleeping lady that time. April’s twin took Chris by the hand again. He closed his eyes promptly, not waiting for the twin’s command. They orbed to a completely unknown place that time, the twin disappeared again. Chris looked around and saw a room, perfectly cleaned and furnished. There were lively posters on the walls, beautiful flowers everywhere. Suddenly a lady entered the room. Again it was April, only she looked a little elder and much, much happier. With no words, they moved towards each other slowly and kissed gently. This time they felt the warmth of each other’s arms. The lady didn’t appear to be a wraith that time. And Chris understood that April was real, as well as her feelings. Which meant he accepted her as she was, with all her grace and all her flaws. He realized she was the only one who’d be with him till the end – through everything. She was the only one, able to understand him. To actually support him in everything. To forgive everything. To see the real him. And – the most important – to love him, giving all of her heart, soul and faith to this true, eternal feeling. …Chris was sitting beside April’s bed while she was still sleeping. And he knew what to do to bring her to life again. He leaned to April and kissed her passionately on her lips, saying: “Forgive me, please. Everything will be fine now. I’m with you.” April opened her eyes, looked at Chris with love, hugged him close to her heart and whispered to his ear: “I know.” And they both knew it very well. |
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| © Copyright 2007 April A. - All Rights Reserved | |||
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Interesting write.  If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, |
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A Beautiful Disaster Member
since 2007-01-13
Posts 409 |
Thank you |
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