The Last Violet

A story of man's dreams and lost love.

                The shadow of the tree I was standing behind slowly elongated.  The long and thin branches, the ones that crept upwards to grasp at the sun, cast shadows on the ground like fissures upon the barren field, dark jags through which the Gates of Hell could open at any moment.  As the winter sun slowly crept down back to Earth, the beams of light struck the branches of the tree, bouncing between the branches, and dripping off the barren tips onto my shadows. 

                Sam was there, laughing and talking to Him.  I couldn’t make out who He was, but I hated him.  He made Sam laugh, that brilliant tinkling that could only beckon a response of joyous warmth.  His laughter was carried over, by the devious wind across the field, into my ears.  The sound rested for a moment on the tip of my earlobe, tilting back and forth over my ear, threatening to spill away from me.  I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around Sam, to tell him that I loved him and that he was mine, and to feel the tinkling of his laughter spill into my ear, not drip to the ground like a drunkard’s ambrosia. 

                He continued laughing, chatting eagerly, but I dared not move closer.  I couldn’t hear the other man speak, but I replaced his words with my own.  I spoke a silent, whispered phrase, a “I love you”, but the wind didn’t carry it.  Instead, it became swept away into the breezes, to mingle upon the chattering birds for eternity. 

                I opened my eyes.  In front of me, an elderly nurse stood, tapping my arm. 

                “Sir, it’s time for your medicine.”  I nodded, it was the daily routine. 

                Besides her, an older gentleman sat, in front of the bed next to me.  He was here every day, always waiting for the occupant of that bed.

                “Excuse me, Mister,” I said to the man.  He turned his head and looked at me with a kindly smile.

                “I just wanted to tell you that Mr. Geriam is on his daily walk.  He goes on it every day, it clears his mind.” 

                He smiled. 

                “I know.  I’m just waiting for him to come back.” 

                I nodded, and watched the nurse stick the long, thick needle into my arm.  It barely hurt as the medicine slipped into my blood.  It was supposed to help my memory, which I supposed everyone lost.  It was normal, and I nodded my thanks as the nurse walked away.  I lay down and looked at the ceiling, counting the little sheep that were mine. 

                “Ba, and Bo, and Bibi, there you are.  And Bi, and Ba, and Blibli.  And…”  I began to close my eyes, and I heard a rustle as a man exited the room. 

                It was the beach, and I was there also.  The waves rolled against the beach, and I looked, and it was full of seashells.  Beautiful husks of animals, scattered all over the smooth sand.  Aside from the seashells, occasionally a strand of seaweed came in from the salty tide, wrapping around a shell and pulling it back to the ocean, where it belonged.  However, my attention wasn’t on the beach, but on the person standing on the beach.

                It was Sam again.  I still remember his real name, it was Somnium.  He told me that when we were friends, a long time ago.  I don’t remember when. 

                Sam stood there, looking out at the rolling waves and the sun setting.  Beside him, I saw a small bundle of flowers, scattered on the ground with petals strewn.  Those flowers must have been for Him, the invisible man who stole his heart.  But He was gone, somehow, and he had hurt my Sam. 

                I screamed out his name, but the roaring waves of the ocean blocked out my feeble voice.  I tried running to him, but every step I took forward, the waves seemed to pull Sam further out.  He slowly waded into the ocean, holding a single, drooping flower.  It was a violet, but it’s petals and leaves had been stripped away, floating throughout the shore.  Beneath that, it was a small, crumbled gray bud, long past it’s use of protecting the seed.  The seed had gone away, and all that remained was that gray bud that Sam clung on to. 

                He whispered softly out into the ocean, and his lips moved, but I heard every word.  The demons of Eros carried them across the winds to my captive ears, and it was those three words I had screamed.  But they weren’t for me, but for Him, the lost Him.  “ I love you.” 

                Again, the small tapping of a finger upon my arm made me open my eyes.  The dreams had been getting more vivid, and I was sure I was close to discovering who He was, the one who had stolen my Sam away. 

                The nurse stood before me, slowly preparing the needle, and behind her sat the elderly man again.  This time, I noticed he held a tiny ring in his hand, that he turned in his fingers from time to time.  It had a deep, silvery band, and in the middle it held a crystal, a tiny, circular violet diamond. 

                “Mister, you are unlucky again.”  He looked up at me, and I noticed a small tear dripping down from the corner of his eye.  “Mr. Geriam is on his walk again.  Do you have anything you want me to tell him?” 

                He smiled, and the movement caused the tear to roll off his cheek, bouncing on the buttons of his jacket before resting on his thigh. 

                “I used to know him.  We were married, but then something happened.  And I try to visit him every day, but it seems I’m always here at the wrong time.” 

                I nodded.  It seemed like a very sad story, and that usually made me cry.  The nurse finished with the needle.

                I smiled to the man. 

                “It sounded like you love him very much.  I loved a man once, but now he’s long gone.  If he had loved me, I would have wished for nothing than that.  But…” I choked up a little bit.  “He loved someone else.”    

                The man smiled again, but this time his smile was a little tighter. 

                I lay my head down, but this time I saw the man leave.  I saw his ring drop out of his hand, near my bed, and I wanted to tell him that he had dropped it, but my voice was lost. 

                As the medicine kicked in, I counted the sheep.

                “Ba, Bo, Bibi.”

                This time I dreamt of a street, lit dimly with streetlights.  For once, I was running, my footsteps alternating between the white circles the lights cast and the shadows.  Ahead of me, another man ran, one that I recognized. 

                Him.  I was chasing Him, the one that I had hated for so long.  I ran faster, and he ran slower.  We ran together yet always apart, so close to catching him.  I had longed to see the face of my rival, the one who had stolen my Sam for so long.  Finally, the street ended onto a broad platform, filled with light

                He stopped, and I caught him.  I placed my hand on his shoulder, and I could feel his pulse rush beneath my hand.  I grabbed his jacket and yanked it, and he turned around.

                I gasped.  I knew Him, I knew Him very well. 

                I opened my eyes, and the nurse stared at me, her face rigid with shock.

                “Mister, you’re awake.”  She said it, and yet her tone conveyed the utmost surprise. 

                “Where is he?” I said. 

                She looked back, not understanding. 

                “Where is Mr. Geriam?  My neighbor, the other patient of this ward?”  I was sputtering now, my face red with fury and disbelief.  I had to know. 

                She looked back, and I could see a smile begin to form.  It transformed, in a rush, into a blurry of laughter and shouting and tears pouring down her face. 

                “He was never there!  He never was!  You, this is so amazing, oh!” She collapsed in a storm of tears, emotion wracking her body. 

I was stunned.  “Mr. Geriam was never there?  Where is that old gentleman who stopped by all the time to visit him then?”

She laughed, behind her tears, but this time the tears that flowed down her face caught on the violet ring, still laying on the ground.  The bright hospital lights shone on the jewel, bouncing a beam of light through her cascade of tears, and they shone blue.

“The gentleman has just passed away.  He had cancer, sir.  But he was recovering, and doing well, and yesterday, well we found his medicine lying on the ground, uneaten.”

She laughed again, but I listened closer, and I realized it wasn’t laughter.  It was wailing, hysteria, anguish. 

“Was Mr. Geriam ever there?”
She finally looked at me, straight at me with her two eyes, and I could see her eyes slowly shift from a deep brown into a sinister, deathly violet. 

“Mr. Geriam was always there.  Mr. Sumnion told me to give him this, when Mr. Geriam came to.”

She held out her hand and lowered her face, unwilling to look me in the eye again.  I saw, within her clenched hand, a tiny ring, with a small violet crystal embedded in it.  

Author's Note

a) This story is completely non-sexual, but it has gay characters. Be warned.
b) How well did I show the narrator's feelings/reactions to events?
c) Were the motif's well developed?
d)!! Was the plot clear at the end? It needs to be!

Reviews

[CRBain]

The narration has a lot of character, even if that character isnt very energetic. The reactions the narrator has are all very dramatic and it feels a bit bipolar at times. I could never predict how the narrator was going to react which made it sort of hard to relate to. Though those things may be a stylistic choice that i don't agree with but others may.

I would suggest you look through your desriptions and cut out some of the extraneous words. for example in the intro:

"The shadow of the tree I was standing behind slowly elongated. The long and thin branches, the ones that crept upwards to grasp at the sun, cast shadows on the ground like fissures upon the barren field, dark jags through which the Gates of Hell could open at any moment. As the winter sun slowly crept down back to Earth, the beams of light struck the branches of the tree, bouncing between the branches, and dripping off the barren tips onto my shadows. "

Could be written as:
The shadow of the tree I was standing behind elongated. The long and thin branches crept upwards to grasp at the sun, casting shadows on the ground like fissures upon the barren field, dark jags where the Gates of Hell could open. As the winter sun crept down back to Earth, the beams of light struck the branches of the tree, bouncing between them, and dripping off the barren tips onto my shadows.

I removed the 'slowly's because the words following them already imply slowness, and the entire paragraph istelf already conveys that time is passing. But cutting out the words and making the sentences more to the point, you hold the readers attention easier. make your sentences like a good bite of steak. No fat to chew on for too long, just a nice juicy bite.

[Dogbomb3]

Hi, I thought the plot was clear, no problems there for me.
I thought the dialogue flowed well too.

I would reconsider the opening, it didn't grab me. Try to make the first sentence about the shadow more impactful and striking - The shadow crept toward the sun, unstoppable, eternal, I stood behind.

[SnowyGales]

Thanks! I'll keep that in mind when I go through edit 1 :)