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T N Wilson

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No One Left to Clap
by Alan Greenhalgh

The story is unique because it presents the scenario of Australia’s first political assassination, nuclear war, terrorist attacks on Australian soil and treachery involvi..  
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Lost
By T N Wilson
Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Rated "G" by the Author.

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I've recently lost an online friend to Lung Cancer. I didn't know a lot about him, only that he had a beautiful soul. I wrote this in his memory, to send him off with dignity. Armand is copyright of Anne Rice, and 'Angel' is copyright of Sarah McLachlan.


Spend all your time waiting,

For that second chance,

For a break that would make it okay…

There's always one reason,

To feel not good enough…

My name is Armand. I am over six hundred years old, and a vampire. Never in all my centuries have I ever felt such loss. Not even when I lost my father, my master…my Marius. It’s storming outside of the café, but I don’t mind. All it seems that I can do is pour my soul out in this simple song, the lyrics of which highlighted on the small television screen at my feet. The small crowd who listens is in tears, seeking solace in each others arms.

Why didn’t I know sooner? Why didn’t he tell me? Ye Gods, Mason, what I wouldn’t give to have you here right now. My only piece of sanity in my eternal chaos. So beautiful…he hid it so well. If I had taken from him that which he always tried to give, I might have known… Perhaps…he didn’t want me to know, knowing what I would have done to prevent it.

And it's hard at the end of the day,

I need some distraction…

Oh beautiful release…

Memory seeps from my veins…

Let me be empty,

And weightless and maybe,

I'll find some peace tonight…

It just this morning, too. If I had known when I lay beside him in my preternatural slumber that I wouldn’t be able to hear his sweet voice again, I would have made it so much more memorable. I would have found some way to show him what he meant to me. But I didn’t. I had no idea, and now I’m going to grieve for the rest of my existence.

I knew something was amiss even before I woke this evening. I heard no sound, except that of my breathing, which was normal. However, the bed which Mason and I had shared for some months still contained the weight of something else occupying it besides myself. Sitting up, I decided I was going to find out what Mason might have put on the bed for me.

It was then that I touch his hand.

In the arms of an angel,

fly away from here…

From this dark cold hotel room,

and the endlessness that you fear…

You are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie…

You're in the arms of the angel,

may you find some comfort there…

So cold, like ice…like my own. If it were possible, I would have gotten sick right then. My sweet Mason…his skin had lost most of its softness already. He must have passed just after dawn. He must have knew it was his time to go. Looking him over, he looked so peaceful, so delicate…like a child sleeping. His eyes. They were still open. Such innocent eyes, dim and without the spark of life…yet, they still held so much love.

“Eric! Tiffany!”

My free hand covered my mouth as I choked back a sob. Already I could feel the blood tears as they ran down my cheeks. The liquid covered the tips of my fingers, where my skin fought to absorb it all. It didn’t take long for the duo to get to the basement. I was mentally lost in Mason’s eyes as I listened to Tiffany scream in her shock. Eric, on the other hand, seemed to cover his own mouth with a simple, “Ye Gods. When?”

I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t move. I was numb, lost, slipping into an emotional abyss to drive any mortal mad. Had it not been for this young man, I would have buried myself and let my body become like the white marble that graced Makare and Maharet. It seemed Tiffany was now hysterical. I couldn’t blame her. Mason and I were the first people to actually show her some form of kindness.

So tired of the straight line,

and everywhere you turn,

there's vultures and thieves at your back…

And the storm keeps on twisting…

You keep on building the lies,

that you make up for all that you lack…

It took us about an hour and a half to come back to our senses. Tiffany took a little longer, but I wasn’t about to say anything. No amount of crying or mourning can ever make up for what I lost in Mason. He reminded me so much of Louis after he burned down the theatre de vampires, only without all the detachment that soon followed. We decided to place him in my coffin, to let him rest in his eternal peace as close to me as possible.

Eric made sure he had his watch, necklace and glasses. He said it was so he could always keep track of us. Tiffany put her favorite wristband on his arm, along with one of her earrings, and tried to sing a little of “Stairway to Heaven” and “Freebird”. She knew that she was tone deaf, but the thought almost made Eric cry for a moment. I was the last to place anything in the coffin with him, since the coffin had been mine. I tucked the pocket watch I had given him under his right hand, and onto his left ring finger I placed the only other ring I had worn besides the one he had given me. It was a simple platinum band.

I could have carried the coffin up the stairs by myself, but I let the others help out of love for Mason. We took him out to the backyard, which was small and nearly grassless, and I spent another few minutes digging the proper sized hole. Eric and I lowered the dark blue coffin, with its pure silver handles, into the hole, and the three of us dropped lilies and filled the hole.

It don't make no difference,

escaping one last time…

It's easier to believe

in this sweet madness..

Oh, this glorious sadness,

that brings me to my knees…

I think we sat by the grave for at least two hours in silence before we cleaned up and came here. It’s late, and only the regular night owls occupy the tables with their coffee and soup. It never ceases to amaze me how I can make each and every person feel a hint of my pain with my words alone. My companions are sitting in the back with earplugs in, to keep from becoming overwhelmed and suicidal.

I could be doing anything right now. Roaming the rain soaked streets and drowning my pain in the blood of a few hapless victims. But I’m in this little café, carrying on as Mason would have on the karaoke stage. Though, this song couldn’t have been more fitting for him. With every verse I sing, it’s like he’s sitting in that chair still, mesmerized by my voice just as he had been that first night he had told me how he felt. It’s taking everything in me to keep my tears from falling, and from showing my pure emotion in my song. I wouldn’t be able to bare having the own establishment become suicidal from my pain.

In the arms of an angel,

fly away from here…

From this dark cold hotel room,

and the endlessness that you fear…

You are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie…

You're in the arms of the angel,

may you find some comfort there…

You're in the arms of the angel,

may you find some comfort here…

 

 

 

My dear, sweet Mason. My angel, my heart.

May you suffer never again.

And may we find each other again in the next life.




 



End.
 


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Reviewed by Heidi Helmick 10/21/2006
This is a very poignant and touching story. I loved the fact that you added prose poetry in it because it made it feel more personal.
Thankyou for writing it and sharing it here on the Author's Den.
Reviewed by Jason Bradel 6/3/2005
I read this and was touched to the heart... thank You Tiffany.... Alex aKa Mason was My dad and You made Me see Him again like noone else has.... I wanted to comment here to show everyone that more than a few saw this...and to let You know that Your sentiments are so very heartfelt. I read this story aloud....singing even the song as I know it by heart.... dad did too it was one of His favs.... I felt that... if dad heard what You did then He would feel that He at least finished one of His Roles...even though it was none of His doing. i am sure He would have loved it *wipes a tear* thank You.... and I hope to meet You some day

Jason Bradel
Reviewed by Rick Wood 6/3/2005
I want to thank you as his partner for making this story to honor him... and I'm glad the picture came in good use...
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 5/5/2005
a powerful, moving tribute to your friend. i'm sorry for your loss, and my sympathies go to his family and friends. :(

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :(
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 5/5/2005
i am sorry for your loss; god bless you in your time of grief! wonderful tribute!
Reviewed by T Wilson 5/4/2005
His real life name was Alex. He lived in Nebraska. He is survived by his son and partner.

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