ONE MOMENT OF PAIN
AUTHOR'S NOTES: All "Clockwork Orange" characters & properties belong to Anthony Burgess & Stanley Kubrick, but Angela is mine & musn't be used without permission. Thanks in advance.
I welcome all reviews, as long as they are not flames.
It was over. It was all over. The moment of pain quickly ended, & Alex's agonized screams were but whispers in the chilly winter wind, along with the sounds of the dreaded Ninth. Blackness overcame the teenage ex-delinquent's brain, & he could see no more. Oh, sweet, sweet blackness...how Alex welcomed it so! Anything to end the horrible pain & sickness he had endured!
A mighty chill swept through Alex as he slowly lapsed into the peaceful sleep, but it was quickly followed by a soothing sensation of warmth. Warmth...
A dainty little paw, a woman's delicate fingers, sifted through Alex's own hand, & the smell of lavender filled his nostrils. He felt even more calm now, his heart swelled with ecstasy, &...No. No, it was impossible. She was gone from his life forever. She couldn't be here, she couldn't be...
"Alex, mon cher, I love you..."
That voice. That beautiful, soft voice that sounded so much like an angel's...Angela. That was her name. Alex hadn't thought about the girl in 5 years, but he remembered her oh-too clearly. Her beautiful face. Her golden hair that shined like the sun. Her soft blue eyes, so very much like his...
Oh, why was he even thinking about Angela? He shouldn't have been—she was gone forever, & Alex had learned never to give second thoughts about those who walked among the dead.
"Mon amour...my sweet, sweet love..."
She was calling to him again. And now, hearing Angela's voice brought so many unwanted memories to Alex, memories he had wanted to try & forget for as long as he lived. For without her, those memories were no good to him—they only brought pain & misery upon his soul...or what there was of it.
She was sobbing now. The spirit of his beloved girlfriend was standing just a few feet away from him, mournfully murmuring Alex's name as her tears fell into the tiny hands she covered her pretty face with. Her body shook with each sob, & she appeared to be so distressed; & yet Alex had no idea why he reached out a hand to comfort her (for all emotion he had for anyone should have all but disappeared by now).
"Angela," he whispered softly to her as he did when she was there for him, "it's all right. It's all right..."
The girl's body tensed, & she turned to look at him with a sad gaze. "Non," she said. "No, it's not all right."
"But, Angela, don't you pony?" Alex replied with an incredulous stare, which soon turned into a smile. "Don't you understand? We're together now, forever & ever more!" He went to embrace his darling Angela, but she broke away just as soon as Alex's arms wrapped around her.
"How could you have done this to me?" she asked in a broken voice, as her tears fell down her cheeks, still painted with the rosy color they had in life. "How could you?"
For a moment, Alex was at a loss as to what Angela was talking about. Then a wave of realization swept over him, & everything became clear. "Without you," he said, "there was no reason for me to be good."
Angela's sad eyes quickly blazed with fury. "You're lying," she whispered, trying to mask her anger. "That is not the truth, & you know it!"
"I would never lie to you, Angela!" Alex countered. "Ever since you were killed, I've been nothing but a baddiwad little malchick, incapable of doing even the kindest veshchs."
"You let your pain, all the sorrow you had locked inside you for Dieu-knows-how long, get control of you!" Angela shouted tearfully. "You let your personal demons eat away at your soul, until nothing was left of it! You brought this upon yourself, Alex—don't you dare try & deny that!" She collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her hands once more as she wept softly. "Oh, Alex," she sobbed, "you've forgotten all about me..."
Seeing his lover in such agony & experiencing the long-forgotten memories that were rushing back to him made Alex's heart sink with such a terrible emotion...was it regret? Pain? Sadness? He couldn't tell; he had never truly felt those feelings in so, so long. But whatever it was, it was hurting Alex so terribly, & he had to make himself feel better—he had to make Angela feel better. And he knew just how to...
Alex gently stooped to Angela's level & petted her soft hair, nuzzling her tear-stained cheek. "No, my sweetheart," he said passionately, "I'd never forget you." Alex tenderly massaged Angela's stomach with one hand & dug his other hand into her blouse to caress her smooth back as he planted his lips upon her ear, licking the inside sensually. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day you left me..." His hands went closer to her chest, & his lips left a trail of tender kisses as they made their way down to her collarbone. "I'm sure," Alex said as his voice turned to a barely-audible whisper, "that you've been thinking about me, too..."
Though Alex stopped there, the temptation was only getting stronger. His body screamed with an unholy desire to give her what she wanted. Those thoughts of that blessed night when two became one were seared into his mind; how he wanted to relive each moment of that beautiful union! To kiss her, to touch her, to love her...to love her as he had when his life was so peaceful & happy, free of the darkness that had plagued it...
Melancholy tears quickly flooded Alex's eyes, & he wept on Angela's shoulder, removing his hands from his lover's body to clasp her own with a gentle firmness. "Oh, Angela," he cried, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to taint your body with such wicked touches! Now that I'm evil, I don't deserve to ravish you like I did before...I don't even deserve your love!"
"Shh," Angela whispered softly, kissing Alex & hugging him with those tiny arms of hers. "Ça bien, mon amour. Everything will be all right, my one, true love."
After Alex dried his eyes & calmed himself, he turned to Angela with a smile. "Darling," he said, "it looks like we're going to be here for a while. We might as well make the most of what precious, little time we have..."
What seemed like forever passed, but Angela & Alex did, indeed, spend each moment of it as wisely as they could. They lay close at each other's side in the cozy darkness that surrounded them, telling what must have been a million stories about the happiness & joy (& sometimes, but not often, about the pain & sorrow) that filled their lives, before & after they met.
"Remember what happened at Christmas, during the year that we found you?" Alex asked, beginning the start of yet another tale. "The first present I got was from Dad, & it was a big bolshy snake..."
"Yes," Angela recalled. "He had been defanged, so he couldn't bite anyone. But your mother was still so scared of him!" She let out a merry giggle of amusement as the memories of that yuletide morning came back to her. "She fainted to the floor the moment you took him out of the box!"
Alex joined in the laughter for a moment, & then remembered something else. "You decided to name him 'Basil'," he mused, "after a mouse you'd seen in a movie...it was one of your favorite cartoons, & you thought the eemya of the main character would make a good name for the snake."
"That's right!" Angela said, brightening. Then a thought struck her: "Say, where is Basil, anyway? Is he having a happy snake life?"
Alex's face fell. "I'm afraid not, Angela," he said sadly. "He died while I was in prison. Dad said something had happened to him, but I'm not sure what."
"Je suis désolé," Angela muttered sympathetically, placing her hand on Alex's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry."
"No worries, dear," Alex said, smiling as he squeezed Angela's little paw. "I'm sure Bog's taking excellent care of him wherever he is now..."
Alex & Angela talked for what seemed like another small eternity, & all the while, Alex made sure to savor every moment of it. He listened to each word he & Angela spoke...soaked in the feelings of every sweet touch they made...absorbed the sound of his lover's soft, pretty voice as her delicate lips moved to talk...& cast what might have been a life-long glance at every radiant detail of his angel's beauty. Alex did his best to take in each & every sensation that bounded in the moments between him & Angela, as though there might have come a day when he would forget all of these wondrous things.
Finally, though, there was a moment when everything stopped, & the darkness that had clouded the land was penetrated with powerful bursts of light. Angela & Alex reluctantly rose to their feet, & embraced each other as they shared one final kiss. When their lips parted, however, so did their bodies. "It's time for me to go," Angela said regretfully, beginning to walk away.
"Angela," Alex begged, clinging desperately to his beloved, "don't leave me! Please don't leave me..." He started to cry, clasping Angela's hand in a final attempt to make her stay. "Oh, please, my darling," he groaned in agony, "please, please stay...I need you...I need you so badly!" His sobs became more hysterical, & his body shook so much, his voice began quivering as he pleaded for Angela to remain with him. "I said 'goodbye' to you once...I just can't bear to do it again!"
Angela crouched down to Alex's level, wrapping her arms around him as she assured her lover with a tender smile, "There are no 'goodbyes' between you & me, mon amour." She ran her hands through his soft hair, threading her little fingers through the silky fair follicles. "In my country, we always say 'adieu'...until we meet again."
Alex dried his eyes, & then returned the smile. "A...Adieu," he repeated, taking comfort in the fact that someday, he & Angela would be reunited once more.
"Remember, chérie, until our paths cross again, I will always be with you in your heart," Angela vowed. Alex nodded in understanding, as tears of bittersweet joy fell down his face towards his hopeful smile. "But promise me this one thing, Alex."
"What is it?" Alex asked, taking Angela's hands in his & gazing deeply into her beautiful blue eyes.
Angela's face turned serious. "I want you to promise me...that you will never do those horrible things again. All the muggings, the rapes, the robberies, the ultraviolence, & everything else you've done...please put an end to it. Put an end to it...for me. And be kind to your parents...for they were once my parents, too."
It took a while, but Alex finally made his decision: "I promise, Angela. I won't let you down."
"You don't know how happy I am to hear that," Angela said with another smile as she kissed Alex's cheek & then started walking off.
"Angela, wait!" Alex called, stopping the girl in her tracks. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Of course you will," Angela replied. "You will, someday. But for now, adieu until we meet again." She waved for a few moments, & then went back on her way.
"Adieu," Alex bade, returning the wave as he watched his beloved disappear into the light that was surrounding everything, filling him with the warmth he had felt an eternity ago...
"He's recovered consciousness, Doctor!" Those were the first words Alex heard as he awakened from that wonderful dream he had had. But was it really a dream, or had his sweet Angela returned from the dead to comfort him during his bout of blackness? Everything seemed so surreal now...
"Go alert Dr. Taylor as soon as you can," another voice ordered. "We need her report on the patient's..." Alex ignored the man's words, reflecting on that wonderful encounter he had with Angela. That visit...oh, how could he possibly even describe it in words? It was so many things, so many wonderful things, all at once...
Magical. That was the best way he felt he could call his otherworldly meeting. Magical...
Suddenly, Alex's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the hospital room's door slamming shut. He looked away, & saw the nurse smiling provocatively at him as she unbuttoned the top of her blouse & crawled into bed beside him, fondling her patient with a wanton brazenness. "So," she cooed softly, "I hear you've been in some pain lately. What do you say I make it all better?" The nurse leaned in to smother Alex with kisses, but was surprised when he pushed her aside.
"Thanks, but I don't need your help," he said bluntly, but politely, as he turned with his back to the nurse. "I have a love of my own."
"Who?" the nurse asked, adjusting her clothes with a guilty frown.
"She's out there, somewhere," Alex replied with a wistful look in his eyes. "And when I leave here, she'll be waiting for me." He buried his face in his pillow to hide his tears.
"Sheila, there's no need to be afraid. I'm sure he's forgotten all about it."
"But Philip, I'm just so upset every time I think about what we've done to Alex. We had the nerve to kick our baby, our pride & joy, the very light of our lives, out of his rightful home, when we could have made arrangements for him to stay while Joe was working for us! Alex is sure to hate you & me, because of what we did!"
"Darling, don't talk like that. I'm sure things will return to normal once we've explained everything to Alex. Now, dry your eyes & put on a smile."
Just a few moments later, Philip & Sheila DeLarge gathered at their son's bedside with a basket of get-well goodies, smiling & looking as cheerful as they could. Philip was dressed in his Sunday best, & Sheila wore her usual PVC dress & boots, along with a matching pillbox hat & some nice jewelry—including the opal bracelet Angela had given her for Christmas.
Angela...the last words of her request to Alex echoed in his mind, stronger than ever. Be kind to your parents...for they were once my parents, too... But after the rejection he had received from them, it wasn't going to be an easy task.
"Hello, son," Philip greeted. "How are you doing?"
"Are you feeling all right, son?" Sheila asked, trying not to look upset.
"What gives, O my Pee & Em?" Alex said with a glower. "What makes you think that you are welcome?"
Now realizing her worst thoughts had become reality, Sheila started to cry, & Philip did his best to comfort her. "There, there, Mother, he doesn't mean it." To Alex, he said, "You were in the papers again, son. They said that the Government had done a great deal of wrong to you...that the Government drove you to try & do yourself in, &, when you think about it...maybe it was our fault, too, in a way. Your home's your home when all's said & done, son."
"But why didn't you take me in when I got out of the Staja?" Alex asked, hurt. "Surely, you hated me because of all the baddiwad veshchs I did."
"Alex, son, even if you had committed enough crimes to make Jack The Ripper blush," Sheila assured him, "we would still love you, your dad & I. We may not be able to change your ways, but that won't make us love you any less. Just come back home, son! It's so lonely without you..."
"Don't cry, Em," Alex said, reaching out to dry his mother's tears. "Everything will be all right."
"So you'll return back to the flatblock, son?" Philip asked with a hopeful smile.
"It may be a couple of days before I get out of here," Alex replied, "but I verily look forward to being with you again." With that, Philip & Sheila uttered their words of thanks & bid their son "adieu", but before they left, Alex had one final question for them: "Do you forgive me for all the pain & agony I've brought to others? And do you forgive me for the way I treated you?"
"It's all water under the bridge," Sheila said. "Your winter's over, & now it's time for your spring to begin."
That afternoon had passed rather quickly, though it was mostly due to Alex's desire to get all this hullabaloo over with as soon as he could. While he was pleased to meet Dr. Taylor (she was a friendly lady whose company was quite enjoyable), he didn't like the responses to the slideshow pictures that he found himself blurting out with cackles of wicked glee. And, though he did not admit this to anyone, he secretly regretted the words he said—for he no longer found joy in them.
Then there was the visit from the Minister Of The Interior. Like Dr. Taylor & the others, he, too, appeared to be concerned for Alex's well-being & happy to know that he would be returning back to his normal self. But those words filled Alex with dread—if he returned to his evil self, he would be breaking his promise to Angela. Oh, how his soul ached with pain when he thought of his beloved sobbing over his return to the side of evil...he couldn't bear to see her cry!
And that was why, when Alex got out of here, he would not let evil consume his heart again. He was going to change himself for the better, but this time, it would be his choice—not the work of brainwashing therapy & that horrible sickness. He was going to make Angela proud, he was going to make his parents proud...he was going to make the whole world proud of him & the good deeds he hoped to commit (& perhaps, then, his past crimes would be atoned for).
But for now, while the cameras were popping & the glorious Ninth was blaring, Alex would just play along. After all, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. As Alex lapsed into his dream-like state that usually accompanied the music he heard, the lovely pictures that filled his mind were of a different sort than the ones you've seen at the end of the cinematic retelling of his story...
He found himself in a candle-lit bedroom, filled with the scent of incense & the ongoing sounds of the Ninth. On a soft bed lavishly decorated with satin sheets & rose petals, his sweet Angela lay, smiling at Alex as she stroked her naked skin, draped delicately in a silken robe. "Here I am, mon cher," she cooed. "I promised I would never leave you."
Tears of joy ran down Alex's face as he crawled onto the bed, kissing & fondling his sweetheart. "Oh, Angela," he whispered, "my love! My sweet, sweet love!" He gently got on top of her, looking deeply into her eyes. "Tell me this isn't a dream," Alex said, caressing Angela tenderly as he planted his lips upon her flesh. "Oh, God, let this be real..."
"It is, Alex," Angela whispered in between passionate kisses as she offered herself to him. "We're together again, & nothing can change that. Nothing..."
3 years later
"Mum! Mum, wake up!"
Bedecked in her nightdress & matching bonnet, Sheila DeLarge yawned as she turned over in her bed to face her son. "What is it, sweetie?" she asked drowsily.
Alex smiled as he set a tray of delicious food in front of his mother. "Happy Em's Day," he said cheerfully. "I verily hope you enjoy it."
"Oh, Alex, how sweet of you," Sheila said with a flattered smile, as she took her silverware from the tray & began to eat her breakfast-in-bed. "And you prepared all my favorites! Blueberry waffles, strawberries & cream, piping hot porridge...oh, son, you're spoiling me!"
"But it's all for the best," Alex said with a happy look on his face. "You deserve it on such a special day."
After Sheila had finished her breakfast & thanked her son again for his generosity, Alex kissed his mother on the cheek & gave her a hug, before bidding her "good day" & promising to return as soon as he could.
"Where are you going?" Sheila asked.
"I shouldn't be long, Em," Alex replied as he headed out the door. "I just need to do a quick errand."
In the local church in Elstree, a stocky fellow with brown hair & bedecked in black clergy attire made great effort to deliver his Sunday sermon against the din of his unruly congregation—most of whom were drunk or stoned on foul substances. Even though the excited roar of the restless crowd was increasing in volume, the chaplain nevertheless struggled to get a word in edgewise as he quoted excerpts from the Bible.
Finally, he gave up. "Go home & make yourselves sober! You're all dismissed!" the holy man cried, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Perhaps tomorrow, however, you'll behave somewhat better in God's house." When the grumbling crowd filed out of the church, the chaplain muttered irritatedly to himself over their refusal to listen to his hallowed speeches. When the sound of footsteps interrupted his musings, the chaplain turned to look at his visitor...& he smiled in recognition upon seeing the familiar face.
"My goodness," he mouthed in awe, "I never expected to see you! By all means, come in, come in!" The chaplain then ushered Alex into the sanctuary, chortling merrily & amiably patting the young boy's shoulder. "Oh, I can't believe how long it's been since I last saw you, 655321! My, my, my, how you've grown!"
"23 years old, sir," Alex said with a grin, "& still growing."
"Oh, how delightful," the chaplain remarked joyfully. "Say, how have you been getting along this whole time?"
"Rather nicely," Alex replied. "It helps that I've been doing my best to make sure I always do what's proper in the eyes of all."
The chaplain nodded, beaming warmly. "And you're doing this all of your own free will, uninfluenced by the persuasion of others?"
"Precisely," Alex said. "I didn't say I wanted to be good for nothing." He gave a wink in the chaplain's direction, accentuating the genuine smile on his youthful face. Again the chaplain nodded in cheerful agreement...but then he paused. A thoughtful look appeared on his countenance, & his eyes held a spark of pity within them.
For a moment, Alex was concerned that something may have been troubling the chaplain, but then he heard him say: "Sometimes I wonder, though, what it was that made you evil in the first place...for even if you were a person who chose to do those horrid things to others, you were still a person regardless. And I can't help but think about what may have happened in your past that caused you to take, erm...a different way." The chaplain stopped when he noticed the wide-eyed, slack-jawed look on Alex's face. "Pardon me if I was being too personal; I'm used to talking with others this informally at times."
Alex's shocked face softened. "How did you figure that out?" he asked with a hesitant incredulity.
"I assumed what I did," the chaplain replied gently, "because many of the people who attend my sermons, the people who look to me for guidance, have the same problem among one another, that something bad happened to them as children that later ended up bringing about their downfall as adults. Scientists like Brodsky & Branom have set up a list of symptoms & warning signs for this kind of problem, but even though I wasn't aware about them all, I still couldn't help but think that you suffered the same thing."
It was a long while before Alex spoke again. Then he became sad, his gaze fell, & he glanced shamefully at the ground, wringing his hands nervously. "That's correct, Father," he finally said. "I was diagnosed at the age of 13 with antisocial personality disorder..." He choked back a sob, but was unable to keep his composure anymore. "But how I wish that it weren't so! How I wished everything would have turned out all right & I would have been able to remain good..." He began to cry, leaning against the chaplain for support.
The holy man stared at Alex with a soft gaze. "What happened?" he questioned. "If I may ask, that is..."
Alex took a moment to wipe away the tears on his sleeve, but as he spoke, his voice was still broken with grief. "It all started...when I was 3 years old. Mum & Dad...couldn't stay home & take care of me anymore...they had to go to work & try to earn our daily bread, as you'd say...So they left a babysitter to watch me until they returned home." Tears began pouring from his blue eyes once more, reflecting the office light like his sorrows. "I missed being with my mum & dad like before...I always missed having them around to hold me, & tickle my tummy, & play games with me. But that wasn't the only thing that upset me during those times...the times when they weren't home..." His body began shaking as he sobbed softly under his breath.
"Go on," the chaplain said tenderly.
Alex's crying became uncontrollable with each word he spoke. "The babysitter my parents had hired...he had been accused of molesting children like me, but he was never found guilty. My parents had no idea what he had done, or what he did to me each & every day...That monster made me go through the most unspeakable tortures. He tied me down to my bed...he touched me...he kissed & fondled me without any shame. That monster derived his pleasure from my pain. He didn't care how much I screamed when he...when he...forced himself into me...And if I didn't do what he said, he would beat me until I agreed to follow his orders.
"But Deltoid always convinced my parents that everything was all right; there was no way they could have ever found out that he had robbed me of my innocence...& even when I told them about the awful things he did, they never believed me, anyway. They said I was probably just imagining things, or that I'd had a bad dream...but I didn't blame them. They thought they could trust Deltoid; they really thought he was the great man he appeared to be. They thought he could do no harm to me...because he was a friend of the family." His sobs, by now, had become less hysterical, & he did his best to calm himself.
The chaplain's face became struck with pity. "If you can, please tell me more. What else has been plaguing your heart?"
Alex stopped for a lengthy pause, & just before he found his voice again, he dug through his coat pocket & pulled out a small photograph, which he handed to the chaplain. The holy man frowned compassionately when he saw who was in the picture—a beautiful girl of 12, with shining golden hair & bright blue eyes accentuated by her tiny smile. "What a pretty child," the chaplain commented. "Was she your sister? Your friend?"
"She was more than that," Alex replied, smiling wistfully through his tears. "She was...my lover." He sobbed again, dabbing his quivering hand at his moist eyes.
"What was her name?" the chaplain asked, now curious.
"Angela," Alex answered, closing his eyes in fond remembrance of her. "Her name was Angela...I loved her more than anyone else in the world."
"Tell me," the chaplain inquired after an awkward silence, "where is she now?"
Alex could barely contain his grief when he heard the question. "She's...she's gone. But not to anywhere on this earth..." He sniffled & choked back more sobs.
The chaplain gently placed a comforting hand on Alex's shoulder, gazing deeply into his sad blue eyes. "If you're at all willing...take me to her grave," he said. "Perhaps we can talk further there."
It wasn't long before Alex & the chaplain had reached the makeshift shrine, still unharmed by the elements after all these years. Surrounded by lavender-scented candles, flowers, toys, & stuffed animals (one of which had a silver cross necklace on), a marble grave containing Angela's photograph & epitaph stood in the center of the plot by the burial spot where the coffin had been laid.
After getting on his knees before the gravestone, Alex gently reached out a hand to touch the picture he had put inside it, wiping away a lonely raindrop from Angela's glassy cheek like he would often do with her tears of fright & pain. "I can't believe how long it's been," Alex finally spoke, "since she was murdered. And still I miss her so...I couldn't even bear to tell her 'goodbye' when she looked into my eyes that one last time..." He began to cry again. "That was the last anyone would ever see of the good & righteous me. That one moment—the moment I held her in my arms & watched her die—led downhill, which leads to my stay at jail & all that followed afterwards."
Another silence passed. Finally, the chaplain mused, "So...everything you've disclosed to me today...explains why you succumbed to that disorder. Those events are what made you become who you were when we first met."
"Precisely," Alex answered, echoing his earlier words. Then he turned to the chaplain, his face sporting a mixed look of sorrow, anxiety, & guilt. "But where does that leave me now? What am I to face when one considers all the horrible things I've done during those years? Am I to suffer for my sins? How am I to be given salvation that I don't deserve just because I had a change of heart at the last of moments?"
Placing his hand on Alex's shoulder, the chaplain stared at Alex once more with compassionate eyes. "My child, no sin is too great for God to forgive. Jesus died to save the lives of everyone—including the sinners. He never gave up on you, not even in your darkest days...& he's not going to give up on you now. You may have done wrong, but just as long as you accept Jesus as your savior, He will look past all that & make sure that you receive salvation, regardless of what you've done."
Alex thought for a moment about those words, & his face shined with hope & optimism for his future. "So," he spoke after a few silent seconds, "I'm forgiven?"
The chaplain returned the smile. "Yes, my child. You are indeed forgiven."