The Great Sleep

Reads: 34  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 2

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

On Christmas Day, you are ready for the Great Sleep. You both only last one day of the year....

 
The night is on the day of Christmas, and the snow is falling, dead as a lifeless colour. I look outside and the atmosphere is like a Hammer Horror film. The sky is black, the snow is white, and it is more scary than polite. I turn to look at you, and I realise how cruel this cold world is. You are dying in winter, the coldest season on earth. I try to keep you warm, but the look on your face is misery. The snow keeps falling as it is in nocturnal depression. You are holding on in the cold, but you will make a better living by dying.
 
The years go by so fast, yet the days are still young on your face. A poetic smile widens the deeper you fell in love. It was like the earth broke your jaw so that you could smile without pain. It didn’t last for long, your smile slipped into sadness, as death found you. Your heart cannot love me anymore, for it’s like an apple rotting. Every bite I take, is the flesh leaving your bones. It beats weak like a wild wind, silent like a ghost who cannot haunt. I feel your heart falling apart, dying from a poison dart, it cannot restart, and it’s now ready to depart. I see your heart floating away like a balloon, running out of air, dying.
 
I stand at the end of your bed a man who is bankrupt of tears. Even into my overdraft, my tears spend too much. I’ve cried so much, spending them all, and the bank refused me a loan. You lay in bed and the colour grey is more beautiful than you. Your blue eyes are skies no more, and your good health can stop telling you lies. I am waiting for you to sleep, and no more will you be mine to keep. I cannot hear your voice as you are a silent world. If you need a place in death, I’ll keep you in my heart.
 
And we live in a silent world, because of the way we communicate. We use these cue cards, and it’s like sending a Christmas card without words. I cannot draw you a picture, as laying before me is the art of death. You would not make a pretty picture because the drawing would never be finished. I hope that your body will be finished soon, so then my goodbye won’t be long. I’m looking at you and I want to end your suffering. The sky is black, so only monsters are stalking you tonight.
 
Your eyes are open but are closing, like a shop going out of business. You don’t see much of me because your eyes register me as blind. I want to take a knife and carve a smile on your face. There would be no story about scars, just a life told about stars. For the final few moments, you are still my city. The earthquake will hit, when death will take your life. It will leave me mortally injured without you. I will not leave, and I’ll still hold you, and I’ll still think of you, when I grieve.
 
There are no decorations or a Christmas tree up in your dying room. Christmas only lasts one day, and then it will be gone. You are only going to last one day, but at least your death saw a white Christmas. Today you both only appear once a year, so when you both depart, you can decorate the tree with your intestines. I have never had the Christmas spirit, because there is nothing to cheer for. Your greatest Christmas present, you will give to yourself, like a book, losing its place on the bookshelf.
 
You cough and your blood, comes out of your mouth, a twisted river of death. You choke, for your life is nearly broke, and with the touch of art your face I gently stroke. My hands are on your face instead of holding your heart. Nothing can save you, so please die right now, and sleep in someone else’s arms. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you’ll go down like the sun. In death your life will fly like a kite in dead arm. You won’t see the world, because you won’t live in it anymore.
 
There are no tears in your eyes, because memories are not worth crying for. Not worthy of a wedding ring, but worthy of the marriage of death. Tonight, I’ll bury your dead body to the best man of earthworms in the earth. In the doom of your last visit on earth there I'll be no flowers for you When you die, I’ll put flowers with water, remembering you. They’ll bloom until winter becomes as cold as you.
 
I walk you to the window one more time to see the grey. The dullness of the world outside is what you are living inside. Coughing and coughing, the mountain of your life is crumbling. You cough blood into my face, and I feel mutated into your disease. Walking you to your bed, in one minute you will be dead. It thunders with lightning in great pain. Like a brainstorm, giving her an idea of death. Your breathing dying down, the aeroplane of your life, is turbulence that is incurable. Your life and my tears, an aeroplane going down a waterfall. After your crash of life, all I’ll see is the black wreckage.
 
You want me to hand you the cue card, and now my tears are dying hard. Please only write a few words, because death will come before your paragraph is written. You are trying to write something, but the strength of your arms, is decaying with your life. You drop the chalk and the cue card like you are folding in a game of poker. The monsters finding death in your body, the earthworms ready to welcome you in the cold earth.
 
I keep holding you in my arms so that you don’t shake your heart to death. I’ll give your final few seconds of life warmth by being your quilt. On this dark night, I’ll guide your soul through ghosts and monsters. There will be no light, but I’ll chase them away without a fight. I’ll be your alibi to heaven, so wake up after eleven. Your time has now come, so please remember my face one last time. You die as your eyes forget me; this is now what death can see.
 
MAN WITH CUE CARD
 
In my arms you died in pain I will never see or feel. No movement in you, and your eyes are cold and still. Like a drug you took, it was waiting before it could kill. I’ll let you sleep greatly tonight in your bed of death Never remember me, so let me walk out of your heart. Your heart remains dead, so the road in you, has come extinct. My love, the great sleep, is your lover after me. It will never leave you, so please enjoy death in his arms. Without me, you’re free to fly tonight.
 
The snow outside has replaced my tears. A white Christmas has now been replaced by a white death. In your frozen beauty, you have never looked more beautiful. The moonlight shining through the window a guide for your death. I will now allow you to enjoy the great sleep. As I walk out of the room leaving you cold, I hope the great sleep will be my present next Christmas.
 
The Great Sleep © 2020 Dexter Angelus Draven. All rights reserved.


Submitted: December 25, 2020

© Copyright 2021 TheGothicUndying. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

BriannasBooks

This story serves as a reminder that the holidays aren't always a happy time for everyone. There are dark moments, and people die painful deaths. I could really feel the connection between the two characters, and how the narrator wishes for the other to be free of pain, as much as it sucks that they have to die. It's like the saying goes: if you really love someone, you'll let them go. I especially loved the closing sentence; when you lose someone so close to you, sometimes you want nothing more than to join them so you'll stay with them forever. This was an amazing piece Dexter! I'm definitely looking forward to reading more of your dark and poetic style! Well done! :)

Sat, December 26th, 2020 6:58pm

Author
Reply

And that is what I think people forget about the holidays. They forget that it brings depression and pain to many people. If they are not going to make it, then you want their suffering to end. I agree with that saying. You can always love someone, yet you can still let them go. That is exactly the meaning of the last sentence; and maybe that love is stronger in death. Thanks for being my first review :)

Mon, December 28th, 2020 12:44pm

hullabaloo22

Pretty strong stuff, with a powerful message. Christmas is a time so often black, no matter if there's the whiteness of snow or not.

Wed, December 30th, 2020 6:43pm

Author
Reply

And it is often that black that is never referred to. I find that Christmas causes so much depression and pain for people, that people will ignore it, like using the white snow to bury it. The truth is that the happiness of Christmas can never cover up the darkness of Christmas that many people go through, ignored. Thanks for your comment Hully.

Wed, December 30th, 2020 3:27pm

Boosted Content from Other Authors

Short Story / Mystery and Crime

Miscellaneous / True Confessions

Book / Literary Fiction

Other Content by TheGothicUndying