Author's note: Okay, this is my first try at this kind of story so constructive criticism would be well appreciated. Essentially, I got my inspiration from listening to a particurally dramatic classical piece I heard on 90.9 fm(Classical music stations rock).
Sorrowful classic notes spilled forth from the rotten looking record player. Jack was across the room, splayed across his bed. Depression was setting in again. These moods were brief but he had no reason to put behind his apparent grief. He had everything in the world that his non-existing heart could ever desire. A place to call home, a wonderful life partner, and friends..albeit they were not very close.Everyone knew of the good he had done to that town. But did they know his pain? He thought not. Jack turned over.
Jack's mind wandered. His grief knew no bounds. He started to wonder if it was because Christmas was soon at hand..No, the thought made him unhappy yes, but it was not the apparent cause. Maybe it was because of his new found popularity..Everyone loved him and were friends to him but he highly doubted that anyone knew of the thoughts that ran through Jack Skellington's mind...He, getting restless, sat up in his bed. His eyeless sockets rested upon his lovely Sally. Her stitching fresh, her clothly skin pale in the moonlight. She was a goddess. He did not deserve her.
Jack touched her face lightly. She did not stir. That was one thing that hurt his soul the most. Her forever young soul wanted so many things in life, he supposed..Things that he would never be able to give to her. He did not deserve her at all.
She deserved a glorious home instead of this ratty, ridiculously high tower he occupied. She deserved that greatest things in the world. Things he is not able to give to her. And a family..Jack is not able to give her that. He is nothing but bones...
Dark hair frames the angel's face. Jack touches her once more. She smiles softly, sweetly even, still in dreamland. He proceeds to kiss her gently.
He now knows what he must do. He sheds a small tear and retreats from their bed, walking to the room's only window. It opens with some effort and a cool breeze finds its way in.
The sickly sweet smell of burning autumn leaves catches his attention and the scent finds its way into his dusty lungs. More tears come to him but he holds back. It's dark and not one creature in sight. Tonight is a perfect night. At least for him. He sighs..He walks back to her bedside one last time. He savors the sight of her face, preserving it into his memory before he lets his body take control. This has to come sooner or later. He leaves a small bit of parchment next to her, hoping she understands one day.
Jack wanders slowly back to the window, sitting on its ledge, savoring the night. He smiles once more and his sockets wander down to his dangling legs and the ground far below. He lifts his head up, breathes deeply...and jumps.
Inside, the angel stirs but does not awake to the sound of shattering bones. Beside her, in blood, the parchment reads: Sally, I love you. Goodbye.