Sunday, January 10, 2010

Entry #98

Solitary Soldier
by Charmaine Peterson


I had a dream.

Nightmare really. I dreamt you were dead. You are dead, but I prefer to think of it as a dream.

I know…it’s a terrible thing to confess.

In my dream, one of your kids called me. I showed up at the funeral. I felt out of place and stood in the back. I didn’t wear black. I cried, quietly. I didn’t want anyone to know I was there.

I know you think I’m stupid. If you’re ever in the hospital in real life, you’ll appreciate this stupid Molecular Biology drop out. Test me. No don’t…

Then there was a procession. People walked by the casket. Open casket. We stood in line.

When I reached you, I climbed into the casket.

I had to. I grabbed your arms and tried to make them go around me. They were flat and lifeless.

Someone screamed.

Why didn’t anyone tell me you were sick? I could have saved you.

Now I’m a solitary soldier, flying alone in the sky. My world has become black and white. There are no colors.

Not anymore.

24 comments:

Lena said...

This piece is full of emotions. I can practically feel the pain. Really good work. Liked it.

Preeti said...

It is sad to dream about the death of someone you love. maybe it is the manifestation of a deep-rooted feeling that you are never going to belong to each other. then death might signify as not just death of a person but also death of every other bond.
Hmmnn... poignant and melancholic.
Very well written.

Ayodele Morocco-Clarke said...

You have in tight constraint effectively conveyed the ache of immense loss. Fab!

Bernita said...

Bleak.

JaneyV said...

The frustration of loss that need not have been. Well told.

Aimee Laine said...

Such sadness! That was a great read!

Aniket said...

To not be able to be there for the final goodbyes to the person you love...unimaginable pain. Heart needs a closure.

Very well told.

Craig said...

I think this one is about the loss of possiblities.

Sarah Laurenson said...

Loss and heartache achingly rendered.

Charmaine said...

Preeti,

You're right. Dreaming of death is not literal. Our subconcious speaks to us in metaphores. It is the death of a relationship I morn.

My first and last love.

pjd said...

For some reason when I got to the end, I was unsure about "could have saved you." After overthinking it for a bit, I figured the narrator had dropped out of molecular biology to become a priest, and that was the salvation he (she?) could have offered. I think that was not was you were writing, though.

Scribblers Inc said...

its the gaping void of "could be's " and "could have's "...

moving indeed...

Mithun Mukherjee.

Kartik said...

The sadness!

laughingwolf said...

somber...

Laurel said...

So sad. Big loss, no closure. Been there...it sucks.

Tara said...

Very emotional piece. So sad.

Four Dinners said...

Emotionally bleak and actually left me feeling genuinely sad.

Beautifully written.

Deb Smythe said...

I'm feeling the heartache and regret. Well done.

Betty Gordon said...

Sad but moving.

Betty Gordon

james r. tomlinson said...

With MLK Day right around the corner, I couldn't help but notice your opening line and chuckle. You've managed to tell a believable tale, yet I was begging for more: What type of disease did this person have? In what way could the narrator have helped?

Chris Eldin said...

I, too, am left with many questions. A tragic tale of loss, nicely woven.

Katherine Tomlinson said...

Filled with authentic emotion, emotionally told.

catvibe said...

echoing the others here. Very emotional and sad.

Aerin said...



my caveat

Something I Would Keep


Something I Might Tweak


Dear Entrants #1-105,

I have read your pieces so that I can fairly participate in the Readers' Choice vote. (I read all of them through last week, before I started commenting.) I will be coming back around to offer my keep/tweak comment, but I didn't want anyone to snark.

Cheers,
Aerin (#236)

BTW, it's perfectly fine if you still want to snark, but this way you can choose a more appropriate subject, like the Golden Globes or those wretched Old Navy dummies.