When A Scream Turns Into A Whisper

Lisabella has just learned that her father has taken his last breath, and wants to say her last goodbyes.

“No!” My mother screamed after the doctor said that my father had took his last breath.
I was frozen, standing in the back hoping no one could shed their glance at me. My throat was dry and every time I swallowed my chest ached of pain. Lifeless. I sat to the cold floor and looked off to the naked room that he once lied. I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. It was my aunt Heidi. Her mouth trailed on in Spanish. Her words were like soft feathers floating past my face. I saw them, but had no interest in touching them. She hugged me tight and hard. I could hear weeping in my right ear. Her sorrow was as clear as a bell but my aunt always cried with a sweet silence. Almost as silent as her tears that hit my neck.
“Lisabella?” My mother’s tone was demanding.
“Yes mama?” I looked at her still holding my aunt like a fallen child.
She looked at my aunt and walked to us.
I could hear each foot slide past the tiled floor one by one. I listened closely to it’s resonance. I closed my eyes and saw the ocean push it’s way past the sand matching the same sound as mama’s shoes.
“Heidi?” She said slowly with understanding.
My father had only two sisters and one brother. Aunt Heidi and my father were left at home form church because of feeling ill. It seems that an hour after church was finished their family had not arrived at their usual time. Day fell and night raised. At midnight a police officer approached their front porch with agonizing news. My father’s mother, father, brother, and sister were shot for dead. They were told that soldiers from France did it as a sign for war and three days later they were at war. My father being the oldest inherited everything. Everything wasn’t much of anything. Now, aunt Heidi is in pain as her heart swells with solitude.
Mother looks to Aunt Heidi’s husband for aid. He nods and helps Aunt Heidi to her shaking feet.
Mother looks at me and lifts her noise. She looks away and closes her eyes. I stand up and look down to my gray dress shoes.
“Your father passed, but we are still here Lisabella.” She sighed but I knew she believed it.
I looked up at her trying to hold my eyes from looking into the naked room again.
“I want to see him Mama. Can I see him?” I asked hoping it wasn’t too late.
She looked at me with tired eyes. “I will be in the car.” She walked out past the exit with our petite family gradually gathering behind her.
Mother doesn’t have a reason to see my father’s body. His soul has passed and she will not waste her emotions on the remains of what used to be my father. What used to be her love. She had no reason to meet him at his lowest point. Seeing him dead, that image will haunt her heart until it rots in her when she too is gone. I gave interest in him dead and alive. I was guided to a two door room by my father’s doctor. He was quiet but when he opened his mouth every single word made me feel at ease. He followed me in and waited at the two doors. There he was before me just like the movies put it. I tried to lift my legs but my feet were cemented down. I understood that my body stopped. I wasn’t letting myself go any farther. I breathed in and smelled my fathers cologne. He was pale and his skin looked as if it was rubber. I looked at his hands and saw the white line that ran across his ring finger where his wedding ring was. I looked at his big feet and wondered of how many places they’ve walked. I looked at his hair still styled from this mornings haircut. I looked to his lips and questioned if forever will my mother remember my father’s taste. I pressed my lips together and let them go. I wanted to shake him and wake him up from his slumber. I wanted this to pass. I wanted God to lie to all the angels and bring this hero to life. I wanted to see those eyes I always looked into for comfort. I wanted to hug the man that was lying on the metal bed. I wanted to take him home and place him in his pull back chair. I wanted him to be there for my graduation next month. I wanted him to see me off to college. I wanted him to walk me down the aisle of my wedding. I wanted him to be able to hug his grandchildren. Tears took over my face as I stood there quite. Quite because he wasn’t able to hear the words that circled in my head. I reached my arm forward and rested my hand on the metal of the bed.
“I want you papa.” I whispered and put my head down. My hand fell to my side and I walked away to the door.
“Lisabella…” A light tone of my fathers voice passed my ear.
I turned around stunned. I looked to the doctor and he was reading a file. I walked back to my father's body and looked down at his face. I shook my head and smiled to myself.
“Come on Lisabella. You’re just tired. A tired mess.” I told myself.
I closed my eyes and smelled him once more.
“Goodbye papa.” I sighed gripping his cold hand.
 

Author's Note

I was think of turning this into a book, but I think it's better as a short story.

Reviews

[DeAn]

I agree, it has the charisma of being a one time thing, so to draw it out into a storyline would only become monotonous and seem to drone on and on. as a short story it has the staying power and just the right punch at the end to leave you filled.

very good write.

l8r g8r
-Tao

[Joseph - Michael]

Short story or not, it's all up to you as long as you're happy with it either way. Anyway, it's kind of interesting how you described the death slowly taking over as she's fighting to keep her father like that

So, it's all good here...

[Daly]

That's so sad! This is a great piece for a short story (it seems more like a flash fiction piece to me). So candid.

[Travis Lawrence]

"I closed my eyes and saw the ocean push it's way past the sand matching the same sound as mama's shoes." -- now that is an amazing line of prose.

"I looked at his hands and saw the white line that ran across his ring finger where his wedding ring was. I looked at his big feet and wondered of how many places they've walked. I looked at his hair still styled from this mornings haircut. I looked to his lips and questioned if forever will my mother remember my father's taste. I pressed my lips together and let them go." -- again, this is simply amazing.

This is a great short story because it exposes just enough to satisfy the reader with your writing skills alone. That said If you ever wanted to, though, there's enough to be developed into a story.

By the way, this reminds me of Odour of Chrysanthemums by D.H. Lawrence. It's a different tone, darker, more lonely, but it deals with death and relationships in a similar way as you. Read it if you haven't, it's a wonderful short story.

-Travis

[J.P.O.et]

Def agree with prev reviewers that this works so well as a short story
And do pay attention to tense and spelling as it can confuse and create a diff meaning
'I closed my eyes and saw the ocean push it's way past the sand matching the same sound as mama's shoes.'
Really like that, very descriptive, using both visual and audio
The part in middle about the war was somewhat confusing and is that a clover in the picture
I love clovers, Great write Erin
J.P.O.et

[a Messenger]

Definitely agree with Tao, it would not work as a book. It's a good read as a short story. Be careful of things like tenses and spelling though. Contrary to popular opinion, they are important.