Away with the Wind (435 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.33 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by shaddap youasshole <woplover.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-04-17 21:20:14 EDT
What an awful night. I had not slept or eaten in 2 days, and the previous night had been the worst. I ran through the door and straight for the cabinet—mom's tranquilizers. I have to rest; I have to forget what I saw. I'm really just trapped in a conundrum of horrors, and none of this is real. It can't be.
I awoke two hours later in the arm chair. There was the shape of a face in the plastic covering the sofa next to me. The cats hated that plastic, so they would not go on the sofa. "Stupid," I thought to myself, wondering which member of my family decided on the tarp-decoration. I traced the pastel striping and studied the beige background. I looked again at the plastic, and the face was gone. For seconds, I had forgotten everything.
The weather was beautiful outside. There was a light breeze and plenty of sun. The gardenia bushes in the backyard were promisingly green. I put my head back and leaned into the arm chair. My mom had hated this chair, but this is where she had spent the last few days while she was at home. It was the only place she could be around us while we lived and while she slowly withered. Oh, shit, it all came back. It was all real, and the ache in my soul returned.
I looked outside at the sun, and then at the porch with the small glass table with the yellow legs. I looked at the chair, the ashtray, the screen. I wanted to throw that ashtray and shatter it into a million pieces. But my anger, frustration, pain, and sorrow could not give me back what I really wanted.
A huge gust whistled strongly through the trees and the gardenia bushes. The only cloud of the day briefly covered the sun. I sat startled, because somehow, a piece of me was gone. It was like suddenly realizing that cut off your finger with a filet knife. Then it registered—she was gone. The pain was gone, too. "I'm just being hypersensitive," I muttered. But I did know it could have happened any minute.
The door clicked, and there stood my father. We looked at each other through the etched glass front door of our beautiful home. I walked closer, and he opened the door. The look on his face said it all, and our lives would be forever changed. But the suffering was over for her, now. The painful recovery for us was all that was left of her.
Dad came in and sat on the stupid plastic, and I sat next to him. We cried tears of pain and relief. "We have to go back," he said. I just came to get you in case you wanted one more chance with her." But I knew it wasn't her anymore. The "Ok" came out of my mouth—it was really the last thing I wanted to do. That room was one of tortures for all of us. It was falsely homey. Behind the cabinets were oxygen tanks and storage for morphine. It was where people went to die with dignity.
On the trip there, the words, "Sometimes the spirit comes out at the head when people die, and sometimes it comes out at the feet" echoed in my head. The nurse's voice persisted. "Often, you can see it there, if it appears at all." Damn, the people who worked in that place were whacked-out. But I still had to go in that room, spirit or no spirit.
We walked into the place of death. I could smell its thick stench, mixed with that of body odor and cafeteria food. It was nauseating. I looked at my father, and my heart ached for him. I still had time to find someone to be with. He was almost 60, and the love of his life was gone. The tears came again. "You don't have to go in," he said. I smiled a weak smile at him.
The chaplain greeted us at the entrance to my mother's tomb. "I'll be out in a minute," I said. I turned the knob and tiptoed in. I don't know why I did that—it's not like she would awaken. I had to enter, in case her spirit was in there. And I had to bid her a happy Mother's Day, since it was her last on earth. But really, she was gone, gone away with that huge gust of wind.
User Reviews
Submitted by Captain_MotherFucking_Foamy (user info) at 2004-04-22 07:25:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shaddap youasshole
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2004-04-18 12:21:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent work.
Submitted by open_ur_eyes (user info) at 2004-04-17 23:36:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow. i've read a good share of stories on this site, but i have to say that this one is one of the best. definitely.. :)
Submitted by bargled (user info) at 2004-04-17 23:27:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
dont lay a finger on my pony-tail!
Submitted by LiteracyLover (user info) at 2004-04-17 22:06:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
well written. it passively captures strong emotions, so the readers have to figure out what exactly to feel. the whole in medias res thing starts off kinda confusing here (as it usualyl does), but it picks up again, and the story gets resolved. nice work :)
Submitted by DraconianKing (user info) at 2004-04-17 22:03:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
+2 for being good -1 for being sad
Submitted by woplover (user info) at 2004-04-17 21:53:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
thanks. I've written about it before, but never have let others read it.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-04-17 21:45:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. That makes it even better then.
Submitted by woplover (user info) at 2004-04-17 21:33:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This is not fiction.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-04-17 21:29:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very sad. Very good.
Submitted by Sounsexy00 (user info) at 2004-04-17 21:28:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
WTF IM NOT READING ALL THAT!!!
-Hadley.
just kidding, nice work, I liked it. I'm not sure im a fan of the fictional works on Uber, but I know that that is just my personal preference.