SCENE 9 – At Eternity's Gate
And as Clare falls, she sees the red droplets of blood drip out from her legs and arms.
Above her, the ground is coming down out of the blackness.
She decides to close her eyes for one last time.
When she opens her eyes again, she sees the first white snowflake drifting along her side. So beautiful it is as it goes to dance with her around her head in wondrous tufts of motion.
And another.
And many more come down in the air.
Together, they make a white blanket on the ground for which to have Clare lay on.
The ground comes to a gentle slow where Clare lies to rest in the soft, glittering snow.
It seems a long, never-ending moment; many of the countless flakes dawdle above in the black night, and go to their rest by her side in the field of white.
"Clare.."
The tender voice to her ears is sweet honey, soothing in her mind. All her troubles seem to melt away from her heart to another place.
"Clare.."
Upon hearing her name called out again, Clare perks her head upright from the field of snow, and looks around. The whiteness stretches on forever, beyond horizons and all of bitter time.
The voice evokes a pleasant deja vu in her – something of a bliss and happiness that had tugged at her some moments before. Strong, husky-sounding, the voice must have belonged to a good person she had known.
Clare frantically searches for where the voice calls from – all around, longing more to be with her.
So Clare wrestles herself to stand. It is hard, without her hands. The spaulders mounted on her shoulders drag her back down. The flakes of falling snow stick to her, slowly melting on her skin.
She stretches up her arms, up to the sky and the endless sea of stars.
The stars smile back, and give her hands to feel, and the first sensation these hands have is the grasp of another hand that goes to pull her up.
And Clare sees the face of the one woman who gave her happiness. It is a face full of meanings Clare could forever recall. Memories could be seen flashing there on her doll-like face – of rich times. Of love.
"Teresa?"
Her lips purse to make a faint smile.
"Hello, Clare."
All these times, Clare had longed to embrace and be with her again, and be loved by her in the loneliness. The young woman tries to say something out of the deepest corners of her heart, where she had cradled her own feelings from the world of harshness. The words don't seem to come.
But that is all right. Instead of words, Clare goes to give Teresa a hug in the field of snow, and together they share the tenderness in their moment.
Some tears stream down from Clare's eyes, onto Teresa.
"I'm afraid."
"What is there to be afraid of?" Teresa goes.
A long beat.
"I.. I don't know."
"Then you don't need to be afraid," Teresa goes. "Anymore."
"I couldn't save them."
"You can still save the children," Teresa goes.
"But I'm.. so weak."
"I live on, in you," Teresa goes. "When your heart beats, I do too. And should you ever come to a moment without hope, let my hope fill your void."
Clare could not help but let out all of her tears, and hold onto Teresa closely. The snowflakes swell all around them, filling the air.
"You have to live on," Teresa goes.
"I don't want to go.. I don't want to leave you.."
"I will always be with you, Clare," Teresa goes.
And Teresa in Clare's arms disappears into the snow.
Clare is left staring at the emptiness she holds and cradles. A sense of benevolence, inside her, that fills her heart with so much hope – all at once – that it seems to be too much for her, and her heart will burst. Then she remembers to relax, and stops trying to hold onto it. And it flows through her like tears in rain.