Um, yeah, repeating D/N.
Well, it's me again, bringing you another chapter. Again, want to thank
those folks, who reviewed – Saavik, Hanniballover1181, ar-men66, Nora
(whose e-mail I want) and the rest of the fellows, who are reading and
following this small insanity.
Chapter 8. Free.
From the Darkness into the Light, repeating myself in the endless circles of lives, living my life again, breathing again, billions of made breaths, inhale, exhale...
Why? He's not there – and never will be. Somehow he let me go, let me escape...
I did this choice. Now I have to choose again. To breathe – or not to breathe. If I'm not breathing, my heart isn't working. My heart is too tired. I loved my father – and he left me. I loved Hannibal – and preferred to leave him before he does. I love Angie. But now she has someone else to love. Why to live?
Darkness comes after the light. Like night and day, death and birth, endless chain of events, people, places. I was in the cage of my own body all the time. Now I'm not, but something holds me here. Something which is very important... if only I could understand!...
..."D' you realise there's no chance for her? It's useless!"
"No it's not. She will wake up." The girl's voice got much colder. "Doctor Martin, we pay money – you do your job. If she stays in the same condition till the end of her life – it's a bad luck. But we will provide her the chance to live again."
"She's been in coma for six months already. Ms. Mofet, I'm sure if your mother could fight for her life she would. But now she isn't able..."
'And that's why she's here. Doctor Hazelmann, do understand – we are going to wait. No matter if it takes ten months or thirty years."
Hannibal looked at Angie with tenderness is his eyes. She was so fragile, his daughter, so small! But she was strong. Even stronger than him. After that long day, when doctor Byrne finally met with them and brought bad news, she hasn't cried. Instead of this she has been soothing him every night. Sometimes it was Mischa, who visited his nightmares, sometimes Clarice. And Angie was always there, when he awoke, his head on her lap. She was ready to bring him water, play the guitar, calm him down by her presence.
However it was getting harder for her. Her pregnancy was proceeding hard. She was too young to have a baby, she knew it herself, but she's made her decision. How many sacrifices could she make for her family, this Creature?
She was thrown away from her gymnasium, they had to move to the north of Italy. She knew Italian worse than French, but she was studying. They lived in a rather small – for Hannibal, but not for Angie – cottage near the lake. Twenty minutes by car – and one could be in a private clinics, where Clarice was lying in a huge bed, her body covered by a net of wires; she was unable to breathe herself, lived a life of a plant. However they both felt they had no right for losing hope. Angie was spending her every day in the hospital – from ten in the morning till three p.m. Hannibal was there every day from four p.m. to eight. On Sundays they spent the whole day there – not letting nurses do their job, but doing it themselves – dressing her, washing, combing her hair. Hannibal was surprised to find several grey strands in the cloud of her long auburn hair. Angie caught him in one of those moments – and said in her usual sarcastic manner: "You have your own grey hair, still enough for not to search for them in my mother's head."
"My wife's," he said then. She made face, but then suddenly became very serious. "What if she wakes up and..." She hadn't finished, but Hannibal understood her perfectly.
"It will be her own choice."
"But then I'll have to make the choice," she replied.
"You're staying with her. It's your moral duty, isn't it?"
She sighed. "I love you both. You love each other. It's just your stupid pride, which is the mother of all sins and the rest of bla-bla-bla from the Bible."
"It's more than love I guess, that's why you are not together," she said after a few minutes of silence. And that's when Hannibal understood where The Creature ends and Angie begins. Soon we have to face up another problem, he thought. Is there in her brilliant mind a place for a new mask called "mother"?
And now she's arguing with the doctor. He will not interfere: if she chose to be a grown-up, she must face all the difficulties this state brings. She copes with it quite good so far.
"The price we pay monthly for keeping her here pays you the whole of your year's salary, leftovers cover the salary of nurses. What's wrong?"
"Well, there are more people in the world..."
"Uhum, and lots of hospitals. I'll call the administration – just to ask for another doctor. You sound too pessimistic for my little son who wants to see his granny conscious."
"Let's go before you get overwhelmed," Hannibal advised. "I'll bring you home to dine."
"I'll return with you," she said.
He cooked the dinner as usual and also as usual didn't let her help. So she had nothing else to do but play her guitar. Guitar weeps instead of my Angie, Hannibal thought. Why hadn't Clarice tell him earlier? Why couldn't he watch his daughter making her first steps, hearing her first words? At least she loves him.
He loved driving when Angie was with him. Even when she was quiet – and she seldom laughed. Smile left her face, he thought. It left my face too. No news is good news – we both got used to that.
Clarice was beautiful, as always. And lifeless.What if suddenly this clinics wouldn't be provided with electricity for a minute? Then Clarice would be dead. That's what the doctor wanted to say. Clarice is dead, her soul wants to leave her body, but we're holding it here in our egoistic wishes.
"No," he felt Angie's hand in his. "Don't ever let this thought come into your mind. She is going to wake up. She just needs some sleep. Mum was too tired, so she went away for a while to rest. She'll wake up. She has to."
"No one owes you their life." Hannibal replied. "She wants to be free and we're keeping her in the cage."
"You gave up? Angie got stunned. "I can't believe it!"
"Could you play? I need to get rid of those thoughts," he asked her. This would be difficult, he thought. Not only because of Angie, but because of me. My little Clarice lies here, her body is completely mine, but it's not her body which I want. It's her soul, which I wanted to imprison and still want now. I can't let her go, neither can Angie, But we have to."
The sea it swells like a sore head
And the night it is aching
Two lovers lie with no sheets on their bed
And the day it is breaking
On rainy days we'd go swimming out
On rainy days swimming in the sound
On rainy days we'd go swimming out
You're in my mind
All of the time
I know it's not enough
If the sky can crack
There must be some way back
For love and only love
Angie's voice changed a bit, but was still beautiful. Maybe even more beautiful than ever. And he has come up with a decision. This will be the last night he's spending together with his little Clarice. He had a daughter, and his responcibility is not to let her sink in her self-pity for the mother, who seems to be already dead.
He brought Angie home and, assuring she was sleeping, went back to the clinics. It was ten minutes to midnight and he wanted to spend them with her. Then he will free her. At last.
All good things for those who wait. R&R.
Chapter 8. Free.
From the Darkness into the Light, repeating myself in the endless circles of lives, living my life again, breathing again, billions of made breaths, inhale, exhale...
Why? He's not there – and never will be. Somehow he let me go, let me escape...
I did this choice. Now I have to choose again. To breathe – or not to breathe. If I'm not breathing, my heart isn't working. My heart is too tired. I loved my father – and he left me. I loved Hannibal – and preferred to leave him before he does. I love Angie. But now she has someone else to love. Why to live?
Darkness comes after the light. Like night and day, death and birth, endless chain of events, people, places. I was in the cage of my own body all the time. Now I'm not, but something holds me here. Something which is very important... if only I could understand!...
..."D' you realise there's no chance for her? It's useless!"
"No it's not. She will wake up." The girl's voice got much colder. "Doctor Martin, we pay money – you do your job. If she stays in the same condition till the end of her life – it's a bad luck. But we will provide her the chance to live again."
"She's been in coma for six months already. Ms. Mofet, I'm sure if your mother could fight for her life she would. But now she isn't able..."
'And that's why she's here. Doctor Hazelmann, do understand – we are going to wait. No matter if it takes ten months or thirty years."
Hannibal looked at Angie with tenderness is his eyes. She was so fragile, his daughter, so small! But she was strong. Even stronger than him. After that long day, when doctor Byrne finally met with them and brought bad news, she hasn't cried. Instead of this she has been soothing him every night. Sometimes it was Mischa, who visited his nightmares, sometimes Clarice. And Angie was always there, when he awoke, his head on her lap. She was ready to bring him water, play the guitar, calm him down by her presence.
However it was getting harder for her. Her pregnancy was proceeding hard. She was too young to have a baby, she knew it herself, but she's made her decision. How many sacrifices could she make for her family, this Creature?
She was thrown away from her gymnasium, they had to move to the north of Italy. She knew Italian worse than French, but she was studying. They lived in a rather small – for Hannibal, but not for Angie – cottage near the lake. Twenty minutes by car – and one could be in a private clinics, where Clarice was lying in a huge bed, her body covered by a net of wires; she was unable to breathe herself, lived a life of a plant. However they both felt they had no right for losing hope. Angie was spending her every day in the hospital – from ten in the morning till three p.m. Hannibal was there every day from four p.m. to eight. On Sundays they spent the whole day there – not letting nurses do their job, but doing it themselves – dressing her, washing, combing her hair. Hannibal was surprised to find several grey strands in the cloud of her long auburn hair. Angie caught him in one of those moments – and said in her usual sarcastic manner: "You have your own grey hair, still enough for not to search for them in my mother's head."
"My wife's," he said then. She made face, but then suddenly became very serious. "What if she wakes up and..." She hadn't finished, but Hannibal understood her perfectly.
"It will be her own choice."
"But then I'll have to make the choice," she replied.
"You're staying with her. It's your moral duty, isn't it?"
She sighed. "I love you both. You love each other. It's just your stupid pride, which is the mother of all sins and the rest of bla-bla-bla from the Bible."
"It's more than love I guess, that's why you are not together," she said after a few minutes of silence. And that's when Hannibal understood where The Creature ends and Angie begins. Soon we have to face up another problem, he thought. Is there in her brilliant mind a place for a new mask called "mother"?
And now she's arguing with the doctor. He will not interfere: if she chose to be a grown-up, she must face all the difficulties this state brings. She copes with it quite good so far.
"The price we pay monthly for keeping her here pays you the whole of your year's salary, leftovers cover the salary of nurses. What's wrong?"
"Well, there are more people in the world..."
"Uhum, and lots of hospitals. I'll call the administration – just to ask for another doctor. You sound too pessimistic for my little son who wants to see his granny conscious."
"Let's go before you get overwhelmed," Hannibal advised. "I'll bring you home to dine."
"I'll return with you," she said.
He cooked the dinner as usual and also as usual didn't let her help. So she had nothing else to do but play her guitar. Guitar weeps instead of my Angie, Hannibal thought. Why hadn't Clarice tell him earlier? Why couldn't he watch his daughter making her first steps, hearing her first words? At least she loves him.
He loved driving when Angie was with him. Even when she was quiet – and she seldom laughed. Smile left her face, he thought. It left my face too. No news is good news – we both got used to that.
Clarice was beautiful, as always. And lifeless.What if suddenly this clinics wouldn't be provided with electricity for a minute? Then Clarice would be dead. That's what the doctor wanted to say. Clarice is dead, her soul wants to leave her body, but we're holding it here in our egoistic wishes.
"No," he felt Angie's hand in his. "Don't ever let this thought come into your mind. She is going to wake up. She just needs some sleep. Mum was too tired, so she went away for a while to rest. She'll wake up. She has to."
"No one owes you their life." Hannibal replied. "She wants to be free and we're keeping her in the cage."
"You gave up? Angie got stunned. "I can't believe it!"
"Could you play? I need to get rid of those thoughts," he asked her. This would be difficult, he thought. Not only because of Angie, but because of me. My little Clarice lies here, her body is completely mine, but it's not her body which I want. It's her soul, which I wanted to imprison and still want now. I can't let her go, neither can Angie, But we have to."
The sea it swells like a sore head
And the night it is aching
Two lovers lie with no sheets on their bed
And the day it is breaking
On rainy days we'd go swimming out
On rainy days swimming in the sound
On rainy days we'd go swimming out
You're in my mind
All of the time
I know it's not enough
If the sky can crack
There must be some way back
For love and only love
Angie's voice changed a bit, but was still beautiful. Maybe even more beautiful than ever. And he has come up with a decision. This will be the last night he's spending together with his little Clarice. He had a daughter, and his responcibility is not to let her sink in her self-pity for the mother, who seems to be already dead.
He brought Angie home and, assuring she was sleeping, went back to the clinics. It was ten minutes to midnight and he wanted to spend them with her. Then he will free her. At last.
All good things for those who wait. R&R.