A Never Ending Sleep

Purest of whites with a dash of blood.

             It was Saturday.  The sun was shining, birds were singing, and families lounged across the park grass, enjoying the late August sun.   With a bounce in his step, a toothpick of a man shook out a white blanket, laying it flat across the ground.  Behind him, an equally lean, but much shorter woman swung a picnic basket in her hand and bounced a giddy four year old child on her hip.  “Cristina my dear, you are getting far too old to be carried around like a baby all of the time,” the man teased.  “But it is more fun up here daddy!” squealed the child. 

                Both the man and woman chuckled, cooing over their lovely daughter and setting out the supplies for their picnic while the man counted off the sandwiches.  “One pastrami, one turkey on rye, and one,” he paused to ruffle Cristina’s hair, “PB&J.  All compliments of the master chef.” The woman smiled and swatted the air, laughing.  “Wait till you see what else I packed.”  “Well, let’s see, peaches, yogurt, water, really dear I don’t see what you are talking…” he broke off midsentence, and with a sly smile, pulled out a blue package.  “Why, what is this?  Cristina, do you know..?”  The child leapt to her feet screeching, “OREOS!”  She eagerly snatched it from his hands and did an excited kind of dance.  The family laughed together, soaking up the perfection of the day. 

 

                A few hours later, both the man and woman relaxed on the quilt while Cristina pulled at the grass and searched for small white daisies that often grew in clumps around this park.  Her searching brought her farther and farther away from the quilt until she was out of sight of both her parents and the rest of the people ambling through the park.  In front of Cristina, a daisy’s white petals nosed their way through the green grass blades, inviting her small hands to pick it.  Then there was another a bit farther on, and another, and another… So entranced by the numerous white flowers was she that Cristina failed to notice that she had made her way to a wide clearing until the trail of daisies ran out and she looked up. 

                Before her was a sight magnificent enough to take any five-year-old’s breath away in one fell swoop.  Thousands of frilled white flowers stretched off into the distance, seemingly endless in number.  A quaint path meandered through the field, seemingly leading to its center, and enticing curiosity in Cristina’s young mind.  Entranced, she stepped onto the compacted dirt, not looking any direction but forward.  Her once prized daisies were dropped and trampled like so much rubbish underfoot as the more elegant, white flowers occupied all of her attention.  Minutes later, her slow trudging brought her to the end of the path.  The dirt went from a straight line to a perfect circle.  Cristina hadn’t seen any flowers growing on the path during her trek… until now. 

                Exactly at the center of the circle, the bare dirt gave way to a single, blooming flower.  It looked exactly like the rest of the flowers in the field, except for one distinct difference.  At the center of the spotless white petals bloomed a brilliant blood-red stain, marking it as special, and in Cristina’s mind, better than all of the rest in the field.  Drawn out of her silent stupor, she raced forward, grabbed the flower’s fragile stem, and yanked it from the ground.  She stared at the lovely thing, turning it over in her hands to fully take in all of its beauty. 

                Unnoticed by Cristina, the white flowers surrounding the path behind her began to sway and grow.  Gracefully, they wove together, forming first a set of feet. Then came legs, a torso, arms and hands, a neck and, finally, a smiling face.  The petals and leaves began to change color, drawing closer together and blurring.  Before long, the flowery mass had become fully human.  She was tall and slender, and garbed in a flowing gown.  The only sign of her previous state were flowers that bloomed all around her face in the place of hair. 

                “Cristina…” the creature spoke with the calm soothing voice of a hypnotist.  Cristina spun around, flower clutched to her chest and eyes open fearfuly.  What she saw before her, though, looked like something out of one of her many fairytale books.  She relaxed, her shoulders lowering and hands unclenching.  “My mom says I’m not ‘apossed to talk to strangers.  Even pretty fairy ones.” She grumbled, kicking the dirt and looking down.  Laughing, the creature said, “Well, then I’ll just talk to you.  That’s not against the rules, is it?”  Wooed by her appearance and lulling voice, Cristina nodded slightly, indicating that the creature was to continue.  “That flower you have, it is very special.  And now that you have picked it, so are you…  I have a question for you.  If I could guarantee that you would find your true love, just like Snow White or Cinderella, would you be willing to,” the creature paused for a moment, looking unsure of herself for the first time since she had appeared.  Choosing her words carefully, she continued, “fall into an everlasting sleep?”

                Quickly forgetting her vow to silence, Cristina replied, “When?  When would I have to fall asleep… forever?”  “Oh my child, so many, many years from now.  In forty-one years, when you are forty-five, your sleep would begin.”  Cristina’s eyes widened and she gasped, “Forty-five?  Jeez, that’s like,” she paused and started counting on her fingers but gave up and continued, “really old!”  The creature smiled and said, “So, you would?”  Cristina laughed and hopped up and down.  “Yes, yes!”  “Let it be done then.  You, Cristina, will find your one true love, but forty-one years from now… you will die.”  Cristina’s eyes opened wide.  “Die?” she whispered.  But the mysterious flower lady had vanished, and the cold words settled on a silent, empty valley.

 

                When Cristina finally made her way back to her parents, she still clutched the flower, but had already forgotten about the lady with blooms around her face and her foretold death.  “Mommy! Mommy!  Look at this flower I found!”  Smiling, the woman aloud Cristina to crawl into her lap, and then took the flower to inspect it.  “My, this is a lovely flower!  How about I press it for you when we get home, and you can put it in your shoebox?”  Cristina thought of all the treasures in her beloved shoebox and nodded.  That would be the perfect place for it.

-----

“Happy birthday, darling!” smiling, an elderly lady tottered forward, a cake balanced in her wrinkled hands.  The crowd assembled cheered and launched into a rambunctious happy birthday song.  Grinning, a soon to be forty-five year old soaked up the attention like a sponge.  Once everyone had finished their singing, she stood, beaming.  “Thanks, all of you.  It is so great to see so many of my old friends and family again!”  Swiping her finger across the edge of the cake, she tasted the frosting and winked, to the obvious approval of her audience.  She then turned to the elderly lady.  In a much softer voice, she whispered, “Thanks mom.  This is great, really.”  Smiling, the woman kissed her daughter’s cheek and replied, “I’m so glad you like it, Cristina.  Happy almost birthday.  Your father should be home by tomorrow, we’ll have our own little celebration then.”  Giving her mother a quick hug, Cristina headed for the kitchen. 

                While the guests crowded into a crude line for cake slices, she rummaged around the kitchen, looking for extra plates.  Cristina’s mother had planned everything remarkably well considering how old she was, but her mind did slip now and again, and she had only bought one pack of twenty plates.  There were at least fifty guests there that night.  Sighing in exasperation, Cristina spun around, ready to storm out of the house and down to the grocery store, only to crash into an unfamiliar guest.  “Crap,” she cried, fretting over the stranger “I’m so sorry!”  “Hey, it’s okay.  Is something wrong?” 

                Running a hand across her forehead, Cristina frowned and answered, “I need more paper plates, my mom didn’t buy enough.”  Frowning for a moment, the man looked up at the ceiling and scratched his head.  “Paper plates, I think she keeps them… ah ha!”  Smiling, he crossed the kitchen in a few steps and swung open a cabinet practically bursting with all things paper goods.  Cups, napkins, and, yes, plates.  Confused, Cristina pointed at the cabinet, and began to ask something, but the man cut her off.  “I live down the street.  I check in on your mom and dad every once and a while.  You know, chores, work around the house, putting away groceries, that kind of stuff.”  His smile reached his eyes, and his cheeks dimpled as he laughed.  Awestruck for a moment, Cristina just stood and stared.  The man held out the stack of plates and lightly touched her arm.  “I’m Case, by the way.”  Blushing like a schoolgirl, she accepted them.  “Nice to meet you Case.”

 

                Having said her final farewells, Cristina began to walk around the house, picking up trash and generally tidying the house.  Case joined her, and they began to talk as they worked.  “It was very nice to meet you,” said Cristina, looking up and smiling.  “You too.  You know, I can finish this up tomorrow, I was planning on stopping by anyways.  Why don’t we just talk for a while?”  She smiled, “That sounds nice.  Hold on a moment.”  Trotting to the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of the good wine they hadn’t served at the party and two cups.  Coming back into the living room, she raised the glasses above her head and smirked, “Cheers.” 

                They sat for hours, talking about anything and everything.  When the grandfather clock began to chime at midnight, they both jumped, startled.  Case recovered quickest and speaking softly said, “Twelve already.  Happy birthday Cristina.”  When she turned from the clock he was staring at her.  Taken slightly aback, she sat stock still, not reacting to his intense gaze except to lean away from him slightly.  Unfazed, he leaned forward, cupped the side of her face, and guided her lips to his.  As his tender kiss melted on her tongue, she relaxed, everything but his sweet presence erased from her mind.  She had been kissed many times in her younger years, and had even been through a few serious relationships, but never before had it felt so absolutely perfect.  His lips lingered on hers for a while longer before she finally broke away settled for nestling up to his side.  They stayed in that position, talking into the wee hours of the night until finally Cristina fell asleep on Case’s shoulder and drifted into a warm dreamland.

 

                The next morning Cristina awoke to find herself alone on the couch.  Crushed, she sat up and noticed a piece of paper pinned to her sleeve.  “Off to work.  Coffee at 3:00? Meet me at café on Oak St.”  Panicking, she whirled around.  Light was already flooding through the windows, but the clock only read 10:00.  Sighing in relief, she rummaged through her suitcase and put on a fresh outfit.  Though her makeup job and hair were meticulous and redone several times, she still had three hours left before it was time to meet Case. 

                Not sure what to do until then, Cristina reached for the bookcase, intending to pull out some sort of novel to pass the time.  But her fingers were drawn instead to the old almanac.  Curious, she pulled it from its place and blew the dust off the cover.  It opened easily, and as she sat down, leafing through its pages, something light and feathery fluttered into her lap.  Her heart skipped a beat as she was filled with an overwhelming sense of deja vu.  White flower, red center…  Where had she seen this before?  Confused and filled with a strange sense of fear, she took off and paced around town, trying to walk off her discomfort. 

                Soon she realized she was stopping at each of her childhood haunts.  The soda-fountain where she had tasted her first milkshake, the ballet studio where she had taken classes for all of about three days, and even the little café where she had had her first kiss.  It was nothing compared to last night, or technically that morning, but it was her first kiss all the same, and therefore, unforgettable.  Drawing short, Cristina stopped on a street corner, compelled by some unknown force to turn around.  There behind her, how could she have missed it?  The old park. 

                Running across the street, she bent down to run her fingers through the freshly mowed grass.  Her mind blinded her with flashes of vivid memory.  Laughter, “forty-one years”, “child…”, white flowers… It all jumbled together in an incomprehensible mess, leaving her breathless and close to tears.  She slumped against a tree to regain her breath and try to clear her muddled mind.  But an unexpected figure appeared in the distance, waving.  “Case?” she whispered.  Standing up, she waved back. “Case!” she called.  Gladness overriding common sense, she ran, trying to reach him as quickly as possible.  But just when she had come close enough to see his face, he smiled and beckoned her with a wave of his hand before turning around and running. 

                “Case!” she called once more, this time more longing and slightly confused.  But she continued on, trying to catch up.  More memories, “I’m going to die?”, a silent valley, “Mommy, look at this flower I found!”  Cristina shook her head, trying desperately to clear it.  Case was still far ahead, but he slowed to a steady trot as he reached an open field.  A valley of white flowers.  Befuddled by yet more storms of memories, Cristina staggered on, sobbing openly now as she followed Case down the dirt path.  There, the end, he had finally stopped. 

                Still smiling, Case stood at the center of the circular end to the path.  But instead of running into his arms a she had planned, Cristina stopped.  There was something not right about him, his smile, it looked, wrong, off.  “Hello child.” Case melted away to a swirling mass of leaves and white flower petals until it had reconstructed itself and morphed into the shape of a slender lady, garbed in flowing robes, with flowers blooming all around her face.  Cristina took a step back, “No… it can’t be… the flower…” She was brought to her knees, memories crashing over her in waves as she finally pieced it all together.   

                The lady was still smiling sweetly, as if she hadn’t noticed Cristina’s obvious distress and pain, and began to speak calmly.  “It’s been so long hasn’t it, child?  Tell me, Cristina, did they ever teach you about pollination in school?  It’s amazing really.” Pausing, the lady lowered her fingers to one of the many white blossoms surrounding the path, and coaxed a honey bee forward.  Raising the small insect to eye level, she continued, “Such a tiny little creature can keep an entire valley of beautiful blossoms alive and well.”  Cristina winced, but was able to stagger to her feet.  The pain was beginning to fade from her head.  “What do you want from me?”  The lady laughed lightly before replying, “Oh, I think you know, Cristina.  We made a deal.  And just as this valley relies upon the bees for survival, you are vital to our wellbeing.” 

                Cristina took a step backwards, “No, you can’t do this.  I never found my ‘true love’ this is a load of bull..” the lady cut her off.  “Oh but you have!  Could you have already forgotten about dear Case?”  “Case, but we only jut met, what…?”  “Love is fleeting my child, as is life.  And I’m afraid that your time has come.”  Lifting her finger, the lady walked forward and dragged it across Cristina’s bare arm, enticing the bee onto her exposed flesh.  Once the bee was happily climbing across her elbow, the woman struck, nails grabbing the bee by its wings. 

                It immediately panicked.  The tiny helpless creature did the only thing it knew how to.  Afraid and threatened, it sunk it’s stinger into Cristina’s arm.  She cried out in pain and swatted the doomed creature away, watching it fly off before crashing into the ground, twitching and walking around in circles.  The lady tilted her head to one side, like an intrigued puppy.  “Two small sacrifices to ensure the survival of millions.  A price I am eager to pay.”  Cristina fought back tears and examined her arm, looking for the stinger.  “Jeez, I’m not dead yet!  Oh God, this can’t actually be happening…”  The lady made no reply, but didn’t seem surprised when Cristina doubled over a few minutes later.

                “Christ, my stomach.”  “Actually, that’s your abdominal…” the lady corrected serenely.  As Cristina lay on the ground clenching her stomach, a green sprout nosed its way through the dirt in the center of the circle.  The lady turned, obviously pleased.  “That’s it my beauty.  Grow…”  Forgotten, Cristina huddled on the ground, each breath becoming harder to take.  Her throat had become the enemy, contracting until there was hardly any room left for her ragged gasps to squeeze through.   The lady swooped down and cradled Cristina’s head in her lap, humming a soft lullaby.  “Relax, Cristina.  It’s almost over.  Let yourself drift… float away, float away…” 

                Cristina’s chest heaved as she struggled to breath.  And as her dying gasps grew farther apart, and the life more rapidly faded from her eyes, the small sprout opened new leaves, growing, spreading, until finally, a fresh green bud appeared at its top.  Slowly, it began to open, and slowly Cristina’s eyes closed.  Smiling a sad kind of smile, the lady spoke to the unconscious forty-five year old.  “I will only ask one more thing of you…”  Pulling Cristina’s hand over the now open white blossom, the lady pulled out a small needle and gently pricked her finger.  She waited patiently as the blood gathered at the tip of Cristina’s finger, growing heavier and heavier, until finally, it splashed onto the blank whiteness below.  It soaked flower’s once pristine petals and forever stained it with a crimson splash of blood.

 

                Siren’s screamed down the street, zooming past other cars and weaving in and out of traffic.  When they screeched to a halt in front of Saint Thérèse de Lisieux, the local hospital, the trained staff was already hopping out of the back of the ambulance.  Trying to be gentle with their patient, yet still pressed for time and needing to move fast, they bustled awkwardly into the building and down a long hallway.  An oxygen mask was placed over a swollen face, and doctors shouted over their patient’s limp body.  But no matter how quickly they moved, or what medicine they used, it would be too late to save her.

 

                Case paced in the waiting room, torn between looking after his sobbing elderly neighbor and tackling the nearest doctor to wrestle some answers out of them.  As his temper was reaching its boiling point, a meek, mousy nurse nosed her way into the waiting room.  “Ma’am?  Sir?  The doctor says you can come in now.”  Practically dragging his neighbor to her feet, Case rushed down the hallway behind the nurse, wanting to curse and shout at the woman to move faster.  When he entered the hospital room pointed out to him by the woman, the situation looked grim. 

                There she lay, lovely face bloated and blotchy, eyes closed, and her whole body terribly, utterly still.  There were several complicated systems and wires hooked up to her chest and arms, and the doctor wore an expression of guilt.  “I’m sorry, but… there’s no brain activity.”  Finally, Case lost it.  “What do you mean no brain activity? I’ve been sitting in that god-forsaken waiting room for hours now, and you don’t even give me so much as a hint of an explanation!  Give me a god damn answer.  What happened to her?” 

                The doctor didn’t react; he seemed used to these kinds of outbursts.  “I’m sorry sir.  But she went into anaphylactic shock after being stung by a bee.  She was highly allergic, and by the time we found her, her airway had constricted, and she hadn’t been getting any oxygen for at least fifteen minutes.  Most people would have died at ten, but somehow her body managed to hang on.  But I am sorry to say, again, there is no brain activity. And unless you have any strong objections, we feel it would be best to let her go.  The machines are all that I keeping her alive now.”  Gaping, Case jut stood in place, not sure what to say or do.  The elderly lady burst into sobs, and automatically, he reached over to hug her.  The doctor cleared his throat and began to back out of the room.  “I’ll let you have a minute alone with her.” 

 

                Breaking away from the hug, Case knelt at the hospital bedside and stroked the hand that lay unmoving on the sheets.  “Oh Cristina…”  Leaning over, softly kissed her lips, tears trailing down his cheeks and making everything taste salty.  With some deranged, insane sense of hope, he looked up at the screen monitoring her brain waves, hoping for some change, some light at the end of this tunnel.  But there was nothing.  Wind teased its way through the open window to finish Cristina’s story, laughing, whispering, “Because even true love’s kiss couldn’t awaken the princess… as she fell into a never-ending sleep.”

Author's Note

I was very excited about this story at the beginning, but kind of lost direction at the end, or at least I think so. I tried to include some clever, or not so clever, little details, such as the hospital name. (Saint Th�r�se de Lisieux is the patron saint of flowers) Anyways, tell me what you think. This was the first time I've ever written anything with an actual romance in it, an it was between two middle aged people. I'm still a teen, so that whole part may have come out a bit awkward. Please, be honest! I want to improve. :)
P.S. This was written for a contest. No, I don't just sit around all day thinking up weird plant stories!

Reviews

[Drama Kid]

It is a wonderful story. Absouletly great details ,which I loved. You had everything I wanted to see in this writing. You had mostly everything in a present tense then moved on to the future, but yet you were still writing in present tense. I loved it when she was having flashbacks. You fit many emotions into that story and I loved it. I don't know how many times i'm going to say love it but I do! Even if you are the only one that tried this contest, you probably would've still been first place because you gave me what I wanted. I know i'm not the best at explaining what i'm looking for in a writing ,but you did it! desciption fantastic! you got my emotions going, great! When i made this contest it was to give me some ideas for my book. But you really inspired me. And no i'm not going to steal your writing you just really inspired me and gave me some ideas on my writing. I am also a teen. I'm actually a fairly young teen so when i'm working on some of my writing i know what you mean by the fact that it is awkward when your main character isn't in your own age group.


well i'm going to stop my babbling I loved the writing and i'm hoping we can become friends and maybe someday you could help me on my writing, or me on yours.

[Lauren Marie]

This was great! The imagery and description were spot on ...

Now, it was hard to know who was speaking in the dialogue, because you didn't start a new paragraph each time the speaker changed. I suggest going back and fixing that. Also, I didn't feel -enough- emotional connection between Case and Cristina to feel like crying when she died. I didn't think their meeting and falling in love were realistic. Though, I'm still a teenager too, so my love life is nonexistent.

But, I did like how you gave us a sense of dread at the beginning of the story. Maybe it was just me, but it almost seemed like the beginning of the horror story, with little Cristina walking off by herself. I kept yelling at her, "Don't do it!"

Though you may or may not want to do this, I suggest going back and adding more scenes in which Case and Cristina are together. This will show us how their love develops, and then it won't seem as "fake." But I totally understand if you don't want to, what with school and life ... :)

All in all, this was a really great story, mainly because of the details and the hidden emotion that you folded into it. Good job!
~Lauren