NOTE: Ok, so here I am in Drama class, and I'm about to start. But I am risking all that I have to write for you all. :) BE THANKFUL!! I am also hoping that my USB drive works on here and this document (which is written on a MacBook at the moment) can be opened/converted on Microsoft Word. With that, I leave you all to enjoy the story.
-Momo
...LET THERE BE LIGHT...
Verboten, verboten, verboten...
The word repeated itself over and over in his head. He was driving in his pick-up on the empty night road, lead foot on the gas, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. His father and mother...they wouldn't listen to him. His six other siblings never did. But he had to try.
No, he wouldn't tell them the whole story. If worse came to worse, he might have to, but for now, he would just say...what would he say?
He pulled up to the all-too-familiar household at around midnight and parked in the driveway. He stood there for a moment on the small front porch in front of the door, hesitant to knock and caught up in a fit of nostalgia. He laid his hand flat on the door and swallowed. How could he bring himself to do this? What would they say? What would they do? Flashback attack. He closed his eyes tightly.
His father had never approved of Eliza. He said that she and her family were a bad omen to them by distracting Faust from his medical studies. Her father had had a job transfer and they had moved from America to his little town in Germany. Ever since he saw her, he knew she was the one. He had first talked to her when he was somewhere in the fifth grade. He was on his way home from picking something up for his mother at the butcher's when he happened to look up at her open window. She smiled down at him and called to him.
"Hi! You're Johann Faust, right?" He didn't know English then, and he was paralyzed by her beauty.
"Oh, you probably don't speak English," she had mumbled. She called down to him again in broken German, and his eyes lit up and replied.
"Ja, ich bin!"
She had giggled and told him they were neighbours now. He had never been so happy in his life up until that point. He had run home and told his family the news. His mother smiled and his father had said to him in his deep, gravelly German.
"Listen to me, Johann. You must not associate yourself with those people. They will ruin you. They don't know about you, and once you tell them, they will drop you like a dead fly."
But he didn't believe him. Eliza was perfect, too perfect to do such things! And her family was just as close to him as his own. Her mother absolutely adored Faust, trusted him in spite of his name, and her father was happy that her daughter had chosen a strong, smart young man to be with. Everything was perfect. But not at his own home.
His father was furious with his relationship with Eliza. By the time Faust was in his teenage years, he's sneak out at night to go to Eliza's. Sometimes it wasn't just to see her. Sometimes it was to escape his father's condemnations and beatings. Once, he had been working on his studies at home in his room on a stormy Friday night when his father had come in and the argument had begun. He ended up being belted repeatedly before he ran out of the house and to her house. He had slammed himself into the door, shaking and crying frantically, ripped shirt clinging to his bloody torso and back. Her mother had answered the door.
"Johann!" she had exclaimed. "What in the world happened to you?!" In his thickly accented English and through his choking sobs he barely uttered the words.
"My...father...hurt me..."
After that, he had been invited inside and was cleaned up, wrapped in a blanket, given a cup of warm hot chocolate, and allowed to sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room. Oh, the horror stricken face of his lover had been even worse pain for him than the punishment he had received.
He sat, huddled up on the couch, wrapped tight in the wool afghan Eliza's mother had provided, and shivered, despite the warmth. Tears poured down his face, and he sniffed and shook while Eliza's mother sat next to him, holding him close. Eliza was in her room; he didn't want her to see anymore of him like this.
"Why did he do this to you, Johann?" Eliza's mother whispered. Faust looked at her with tearful eyes and leaned on her, hiccuping breaths. She kissed the top of his head.
"Perhaps you should stay away from here for a while," she said. "We don't want you getting hurt anymore--"
"Nein," he replied between quiet sobs. "I love Eliza. I go through much worse for her, always, no matter how bad pain is."
Tears filled her eyes as she nodded.
"Ok," she whispered. "But if you ever need to be safe, you can come here. Always...no matter how bad the pain is."
He knocked and rang the doorbell after standing, paralyzed by memories. Clenching his fists tightly, he waited. He heard voices from inside. Trembling began in his fingers, fighting the urge to turn and run.
His father opened the door.
"Johann?" he asked, squinting at his son. Faust didn't make eye contact.
"May I come in?" he asked in German, wasting no time. His father nodded and stepped aside. They both walked in. Faust looked around. Some things had changed, but not many. His father looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
"Are you alright?" he asked. Faust looked back at him.
"Where is Mama?" he asked, walking into the kitchen. His mother was there, sitting at the table.
"Johann, oh goodness gracious," she said, getting up to kiss her son. "How are you? Why do you come so late? My goodness! Are you alright, my love?"
"Mama...I need something," Faust said after kissing his mother. He felt his father's hard gaze on his back. "And I know you won't listen to my if I try to explain, but will you please just...let me get what I need? I don't have much time..."
His mother gave him a curious look before nodding with a sigh.
"Go on and get what you need, then. Just don't wake your brothers and sisters," she said. Faust nodded and bolted up the stairs.
He tip-toed past his sleeping siblings and reached the attic door, throwing it open and climbing up the creaking stairs. He flicked on the light. It flickered and finally, after a few tried, the light stayed on and he looked around at the dusty old boxes and random old belongings of the family that no longer had any use and had long been retired.
"My God...where could it be?" he said to the silence. He climbed into the loft and began his frantic search. He threw open boxes upon boxes and yet, no luck. A good amount of time passed before he sat in the middle of his mess and put his hands on his head. He moaned in frustration and threw an old lamp to the other side of the room. It shattered against the wall. Looking over to the destroyed item, he noticed a small box that had not yet been discovered. He crawled over to it and opened it slowly. Inside, there was a black cloth covering what looked like books. His hands began to shake. On the cloth, the Faust family seal was printed and worn. But there it was.
He walked awkwardly back down all the stairs and placed the dusty boxes he had found on the kitchen table. His parents were on the couch, his father asleep and his mother on her way there.
"Did you find what you needed?" she asked him in a quiet voice.
"Yes," he replied, walking over to her and leaning down to kiss her. "I am going now. I'm sorry for coming so late."
"No no, Johann, you know you are always welcome here," she said. "We're your family."
"I know, Mama," he whispered. For a moment, he couldn't bring himself to leave. Being this close to his mother after some time, after what seemed like forever, after all of the tragic events that had just begun, she was the saving grace, the rock that he clung to, the safety in the storm. He gathered her into his arms and held her there, then delivered a tender kiss to her cheek. He buried his face in her neck and held her tighter.
"Did you miss me that much, my darling?" his mother chuckled. Faust nodded and kissed her again, his eyes closed tightly.
"I love you...so much," he said to her. "Tell father that I found what I needed."
"Yes, Johann, I will," she replied as he let her go, giving her one last kiss on the forehead before gathering the boxes and leaving. Once he was out side in his truck, the boxes in the passenger seat, he looked out the window back at the house. Should he have said goodbye to his siblings? Would they care? Should they know? He shook his head. No one can know. He drove off into the night.
The next morning, Faust had already been at work. He had read and reread all of the books he had picked up so far. His ancestor's work was written in old German text, so he had a bit of trouble identifying words, but in the end, he knew it would be worth it.
To anyone outside his situation, including himself, he would have thought the man was mad. Most people did. But the knowledge he discovered was immense! Not only was there word of resurrection in these studies, there were entire tests, experiments, workings of the Dark Arts, so Faust the First called them. Now, in modern times, it was more commonly known as Necromancy. The Art of Raising the Dead.
He swallowed, devoured the secrets like a savage animal. He knew, he believed in this work! It was too great, too powerful to be the ramblings of a mad man, as it had always been described to him. No, this was far greater. As he read these notes, these past and forgotten confessions of the dark soul, he felt something triggered in him. He felt a rising sense of confidence, of knowing. For some reason, he knew, deep in his blackened heart and soul, he knew that she would return to him, by any means. But now, he only knew of these means. Necromancy was soon to become the highlight of his life...and it had already started taking over.
TBC
TRANSLATIONS:
Ja, ich bin - Yes, I am
Nein - No