Post by Jessy on Jan 14, 2007 6:30:37 GMT -5
My response to the Last Day challenge. It went a bit weird, and I almost cried whilst writing it, but hey! That's what I do.
It doesn’t take long to realise that the world is ending. Perpetual darkness, dead Watchers decorating the floor, rain of fire, seas rising, the overwhelming stench of death. It becomes obvious after a while. The head splitting visions help a bit as well. Visions with one clear message.
There’s nothing we can do.
When the world is ending, even the strongest grudges, the deepest hatreds run dry. There isn’t a point anymore, and family is family, whatever happened in the past.
I’m lucky to get the flight to the States, or at least, I’m lucky to get one that lands in one piece. With storms raging all around, it’s a relief to land safe and sound. Or as safe and sound as I can be, as a fighter. Hey, I know it is the last day, it didn’t mean I’ll up fighting.
Not until now that is.
He’s in hospital. As I enter the room I realise they haven’t even asked me if I’m family. I don’t know what I would say to that.
Then I see him, looking so small in the bed, his face smashed up and his arms broken. I know then, he’s my dad, always will be.
There’s screaming and loud thumping as demons enter the hospital. To leave to fight them would be suicide, so I stay beside him and hold his hand. I hear a priest preaching, to the demons, threatening them with the Lord. Then he’s cut off, and his head rolls past the doorway.
He squeezes my hand and I turn to him, started that he’s awake. He looks at me, and I know he doesn’t know why I’m here. He doesn’t understand that he’s forgiven. Everything is forgiven. It has to be, it’s the last chance.
When the demon enters the doorway, he obediently closes his eyes and turns his head away as I stand, ready to fight once more to give him a few more seconds. It’s a surprise, therefore, to turn back for an instant and see him watching me, watching me shift and change, something I thought he always hated.
It’s such a surprise that I’m impaled. I don’t have the strength to get up again. It’s not like the movies. Knowing that he doesn’t hate me, knowing he loves me… It’s good, but it doesn’t stop the pain. It doesn’t halt death. He knows this. I know this. We learnt that long ago, in another hospital room, when his wife, my mother died.
And yet, it fills me with such happy sorrow to know this.
My Daddy loved me, then I died.
It doesn’t take long to realise that the world is ending. Perpetual darkness, dead Watchers decorating the floor, rain of fire, seas rising, the overwhelming stench of death. It becomes obvious after a while. The head splitting visions help a bit as well. Visions with one clear message.
There’s nothing we can do.
When the world is ending, even the strongest grudges, the deepest hatreds run dry. There isn’t a point anymore, and family is family, whatever happened in the past.
I’m lucky to get the flight to the States, or at least, I’m lucky to get one that lands in one piece. With storms raging all around, it’s a relief to land safe and sound. Or as safe and sound as I can be, as a fighter. Hey, I know it is the last day, it didn’t mean I’ll up fighting.
Not until now that is.
He’s in hospital. As I enter the room I realise they haven’t even asked me if I’m family. I don’t know what I would say to that.
Then I see him, looking so small in the bed, his face smashed up and his arms broken. I know then, he’s my dad, always will be.
There’s screaming and loud thumping as demons enter the hospital. To leave to fight them would be suicide, so I stay beside him and hold his hand. I hear a priest preaching, to the demons, threatening them with the Lord. Then he’s cut off, and his head rolls past the doorway.
He squeezes my hand and I turn to him, started that he’s awake. He looks at me, and I know he doesn’t know why I’m here. He doesn’t understand that he’s forgiven. Everything is forgiven. It has to be, it’s the last chance.
When the demon enters the doorway, he obediently closes his eyes and turns his head away as I stand, ready to fight once more to give him a few more seconds. It’s a surprise, therefore, to turn back for an instant and see him watching me, watching me shift and change, something I thought he always hated.
It’s such a surprise that I’m impaled. I don’t have the strength to get up again. It’s not like the movies. Knowing that he doesn’t hate me, knowing he loves me… It’s good, but it doesn’t stop the pain. It doesn’t halt death. He knows this. I know this. We learnt that long ago, in another hospital room, when his wife, my mother died.
And yet, it fills me with such happy sorrow to know this.
My Daddy loved me, then I died.
