An extraordinarily beautiful morning

At first, it was only an ominous idea of a glow in the distance, a faint feeling of discomfort which started as a tight knot in the very bottom left corner of his stomach. It was the presage of greater evil, the beginning of what was to come. As the silky darkness began to recede, Dan closed his eyes for a moment and shuddered with fearful anticipation.

The process started slowly, almost untraceable at first, like a drop of poison spreading through a sluggishly pulsing blood stream, until the harsh reality could no longer be ignored. Tiny spikes of pain penetrated his skin, drilling deeper and deeper, through subcutaneous layers of fat, and further down, until it reached the very marrow of his bones, paralyzing him. Surrendering him to a promise of even greater torture as an orb of fire forced its way past the dark edge of the horizon, slowly extending its blood-red tentacles of light, ready to consume whatever came into its ever-widening reach.

Dan stared into the flaming eye of his approaching demise, mesmerized by its deadly glory. Longing for it like a male mantis longs for its female counterpart, knowing it will eventually rip its head off and devour it, but still unable to suppress the desire. “Only once,” he whispered. Only once he wanted to feel like he hadn’t in all those years. Only once he wanted to see it again, the sunrise.

Crimson light washed over the horizon. His eyes were wide, unblinking, but his mind was far away, in another time, maybe even another world. With the might of a maelstrom, he was sucked into a whirl of black and red with just a tinge of blue shining through at the edges.

Red like rivers of blood mixing with streams of mud-grey water; bottomless black eyes coming closer and closer, and then pain. But there was also cerulean like the summer sky dotted with fluffy cotton balls, ocean blue like the sun-glimmering sea on a late July afternoon, indigo like the loose dress billowing around her dancing ankles, and finally, azure like the knowing depths of her shining eyes.

Deep down in the hidden crevasses of his mind, he heard a low echo, gaining intensity until his whole head was vibrating from within. It repeated the same two sentences over and over again, making his knees go weak, his hands grab the windowsill for support. “Look at the sunrise, Dan. Isn’t this the most beautiful thing?”, a velvet voice said, long gone, but still with him forever.

Rays of gold speared through blood-tinged clouds and Dan was pulled out of his trance by the stench of burned flesh, his burned flesh. With a start he willed his pain-frozen arm to move and slammed a red button next to the window. Heavy metal shutters came down, plunging the living room into soothing darkness. His breath rushed out, leaving his empty shell sliding down to the hard mahogany floor.

The loud clang of the shutters was still reverberating in his ears as the silence of the room started to press down on him, the weight getting heavier and heavier, a claw holding an ever-tightening grasp around his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. A pressing sickness spread through his stomach as he lay there heaving, trying to push air into his rebellious lungs.

He lifted his stone-heavy head and grabbed at the wooden shelf next to him, his burned fingertips sliding along the worn surface in search. As his arm pulled back again, in his hand there was an object, a simple black photo frame which he cradled to his chest like a vulnerable child. He lifted the picture just high enough to look at it and slowly his breathing became steadier, a breath at a time. One finger gently stroked along the lines of the photograph, and he closed his eyes, shutting out the reality of his world for a moment.

***

Her laughter tingles in his ears, tickling the insides of his stomach as he lies on a soft bed of green. He turns his head to the side watching her whirl in circles, her indigo dress billowing around her, her feet creating a whirlwind of sand. With a sigh she comes to a stop and lets herself fall onto the fleck of grass right beside him. Framed by blades of emerald and unruly brunette locks, her face glows in the golden rays proclaiming the beginning of the day, droplets of sweat on her neck reflecting the light. Her smiling blue eyes close for a moment with a blissful smile. A small round area to the right of her full lips presses inwards as the corners of her mouth pull up, just on the right side. He can’t resist and puts a fingertip into the dimple. She opens her eyes and looks up.

“Look at the sunrise, Dan. Isn’t this the most beautiful thing?”

And indeed, it is. A ball of liquid gold peeks out from behind the horizon, stretching out its caressing arms, turning the sky into a water painting of orange, pink and blue that is reflected on the calm waves of the ocean.

“Yes, extraordinarily beautiful, just magnificent”, he says, his mouth splitting into a teasing smile.

“Oh, shush, you uncultured creature!”. She gives him a light slap on the stomach.

“Ah, what flattering words. I knew there was a reason why I liked you”, he says.

She just answers with a smile, her azure eyes seeing through his teasing tone, through his confident half-smile, right down to his core. “Sure you do.” Her lips curl up and she turns her head back towards the rainbow sky that now is unfolding its full beauty in a display of color and light. But as the sun finally fully emerges at the horizon his eyes are on her golden-lit face.

***

Dan heaved himself onto his side and put a knee under his body, straining his muscles to push himself up, the photograph carefully tucked under one arm. His own weight seemed unbearable for his heat-blistered body. First one foot on the floor, one hand on the shelf next and finally, in a burst of effort, he got himself into an upright position.

He breathed heavily as he made his way to the kitchen and carefully put the picture frame on the counter. But the sigh as he stood in front of the refrigerator has nothing to do with exhaustion, no physical exhaustion anyways. With his lips pressed together in a tight line, he opened the door. And is greeted by an array of plastic and red.

***

Pounding rain beats on metal roofs and crumbling stone. Rivulets of black liquid stream over the mud-grey cobblestone, splitting up and meeting again, creating an intricate net pattern leading down the dark uneven alleyway. As the streams of rainwater meet his body, they take on a crimson hue.

He lies on the cold wet ground in front a shabby house entrance his water-dripping head bedded in her lap. Her figure, clad in a blue silk dress, so unlikely in a shady backstreet like this, is bowed over him.

“Dan… look at me. Stay awake. Please… stay with me.” The intensity of her voice is only diminished by two sobs.

He tries to do as she says, but his mind is spinning, dragging him down into an unknown darkness.

He tries to speak. “Everything… will be… alri---”

“Shhh, I know. Don’t talk, save your strength.” She looks at the long knife protruding out of his stomach, stains of red blooming all around, and closes her eyes for a moment. “Someone… will come to our help.”

And someone came. It was just not the help he had expected… or wanted. The only thing he remembered from that time were cruel dark eyes and a sharp pain spreading out from his throat through his body, through every nerve and blood vessel, until his whole existence seemed to only consist of agony.

***

Dan stared at the carmine bags lined up needly on the fridge shelves, row over row, like books in a library. He stretched out a hesitant arm and grabbed a bag, ripping open the transparent plastic and pouring the liquid into a glass. The smell tantalized him with its sweet rusty flavor, alluring and sickening at the same time.

Without another thought, he lifted the glass and gulped it down in one go. A light tingle went through his body and the skin around the burn wounds on his arms started to pull inwards, stretching over the wounds until nothing could be seen, except for perfectly clean skin.

He looked at the photo on the counter. “This is all your fault.”, he said. “You wanted me to live… and then you left me alone… to fend for myself.” He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. “I should have never listened to you. I should have---” He shook his head.

Even now he remembered her pleading eyes, begging him not to die, not to leave her alone, and he didn’t know if he could have every refused her, left her alone with the pain and guilt. No way to know now, and also no way to change the past.

With a shaking hand, Dan traced the lines of her face on the photo, down her chestnut hair, past her intense azure eyes and the dimple on her right cheek, down to the small paper cut out in the corner of the frame. In loving memory of Sarah Williams, 25.06.1921-20.12.2003. He looked into her sparkling eyes and whispered: “Happy birthday, my dear”.

After another moment, he carefully took the photo in his hands and made his way down to the cellar where his coffin was, to rest for the day.