Jonathan's Song

Jonathan's Song


Is there fear in the eyes of everyone that exhists on the planet? Sometimes I can see that fear wich is buried deep within them. I wonder at night, when I look out of my bay window, and I see all those humans walking around, bumbping into one another, some hiding from the police, and then there are the murderers who lurk about within the shadows, waiting for their next victim. I often wonder what it is they fear.
Is it to be killed accidentally? Perhaps not accidentally at all. Who knows. But what I do know, is that they all fear something. They think the world is a battle zone, some of them don't even give a shit. Like me.
I care a little, but not too much. I care that my death will come if I take the wrong step. I fear that I shall spend the rest of my life alone. But most of all, I fear that people will find out who and what I really am. Hell, I don't even know what I am, and sometimes I wonder if who I am, is really who I am. I know that doesnt quite sound right, but in my head it does, and if I need to say it that way, then I shall.
I do not write for anyone in particular except for myself. I like to take a pen in my hand, place it on some parchment, and scribble down incredulous thoughts that float about within my head. I love to write. It's what I do. Or did.
When I was twenty-one, fresh out of Yale, all I did was write. My dream was to become a novelist, but my father had insisted I study something that would make me grow. Law or Medicine. I had to choose one. I slacked off in college some, and I didn't care much. I always passed my exams, and I always showed up for class. I was a good listener and I always took notes. Perhaps all the dope smoking was what made me a good scholar, even beer was well worth my efforts. Drinking efforts that is. But through all of it, I managed to pass and made validictorian as well.
One day all of this will be a big blur. This diary. I won't remember a word I have written down, but I will have remembered writing in it. Sometimes it is like that. You read a good book, but after reading many more books after, you forget what that book was about. That book you loved so much.
There was one book I loved. It was written by D.C. Hanley. You probrably wouldnt have heard of it, having been written IN THE EARLY eighteen hundreds. It was about a man who spen his whole life searching for a woman to which he could spend the rest of his life with, he searched hi and low, only to realize on his deathbed, he would never have a chance to say goodbye to the one woman he loved. But beyond all of that, beyond his death, he met a woman in heaven, and lived out eternity with her. It was not all of that in a sense. Most books have humor, romance, sex, drugs, gore, murder. But this book was beyond that. It meant something more to me than anything I had ever known. Immortality after death was a better voyage than the one here with the living.
I searched deep once. For a soul. Yes my soul. I admit it was a hard time for me. I had been dealing with so many demons, not real ones, but rather the past. I had done so many horrible things to many people, and recently i realized that it had to be done. But back then, it was a great pain to deal with. Once i swore i was going crazy. I could hear the screams of those i killed, and whispers from people who walked around me. As though they had known what it was i had done, but yet they didn't.
So now i am here to share with you my tale. It is not that long of a story i assure you, but as you can see the length of this book, it is mearly just a short version of my exhistance.


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When i woke up Sunday morning, right before the sun had actually set, i let out a deep yawn as i layed in my sexless bed. I had always envisioned myself waking up next to a beautiful maiden, smelling her sweet floral essence, and kissing her gently on the forhead. But that had never happened, and i had started to think it never would. I was not ugly, i know that much, and still arent til this day, but because of my massive form, women in the villa were deathly afraid to even smile at me.
Then, my hair was rather long, only to my shoulders. My eyes were a deep shade of green, and i had a strong jaw that widened as i smiled. I had broad shoulders, a tight and bumpy stomch from what everyone calls now, abs. I had practiced the sword eveyday by order of my father, and at night i would let loose a bombardment of wild animals. Only to chase them and hunt them down. I loved the sport of chase, and i so it well to this day.
That morning was dry and a heavy scent of dry crisp laundry filled the air. Henrietta, our maid, had always started the laundry early, and every morning when i awoke, my nose would take in that sensuous smell. Another maid, we called her Margeruite, had entered my chamber with fresh clothes, a hot jug of water, and tea for my splendor. I always loved when Margeruite drew me a bath. Her soft hands touching my skin was as close to a woman as i had ever been. She had marvelous hands, fingers. Her touch was soothing, and as though she had been a childs comfortaing nurse, i had her touch all to myself.
The water poured into the basin tub, and the steamy mist fluttered in the still air. The cascading light from the window had struck over a slice of water. It was warmer. The sun began to peek over the mountain tops, and i stepped out of bed, stretching all of my muscles. Some bones cracked with pulls, and Margeruite smirked to herself as she heard the breaks. I tilted my head at her, placed my arms by my side, and walked towards her slowly. "Why do you make such a face Margeruite?" I asked her with a hushing tone. She only lowered her head. I hated when servants did that. They always lowered their head as though someone would scold them for being human. I was at her side now. My hand went to her arm, just above the elbow, and i forced her to stand. But not too rough. "Tell me, i wish to know." She only stared me in the eyes, then quickly turned away.
"I am sorry my lord. I do not wish to be rude or funny." You could tell she was a little starled, however i was not going to harm her in any way.
I let her arm go. She went back to the bath. "Margeruite. You have been with us since i was a child. You have always taken care of me, even as i was sick and couldnt leave the bed to reach the toilet. You should be delighted i speak to you the way i do. I choose not to be unkind like my father." I gave her a sly smile. She smiled back. "That's my girl." I couldnt help but chuckle as well to the comment of my father. Hell, the servants hated him almost as much as i did.
After my bath, i had strolled out into the courtyard, heading for the stables, when i heard the most strangest thing. It was so remarkable that i had to stop in my steps to find the source of this noise. But where? Where on earth had it been coming from? It had been coming from the tool shack. I rushed over there on tipped toes, and lurched up to the window to take a peek. Then, i saw the most horrid thing ever. My father, in the tool shed, getting ready to drive a wood chipper through a womans heart. I could feel my heart speed up with rage, and my teeth began to grit on their own. I had to do something, and fast.
Seconds later i stormed into the shed in order to stop my father from murdering this woman. The loud crash of the door startled him, and the womans eyes began to shift an ice blue. She grinned viciously, and before i knew it, and before my father could turn his head back to the woman, she was gone. Almost as if she had vanished into thin air. I stood there in shock, but my father grabbed me by the v of my shirt and slammed me hard into the wall. "You just cost me our lives. Never intterupt me again. Ever!" He released my shirt then shook of his tenson, only to walk out calmly. I let out startled breaths of air. Not only could i get that woman out of my mind, but i had been seeing things that perhaps were not really there. But i knew it was. She was not human. She had vanished into thin air, and she was not human.
Nights had gone by since then, and all i could do was think about that woman. Who she was, why she was here, and more so, what she was. My father hadn't even spoke of it since, and i was stuck with a mind full of questions. Even had i asked, he probrably wouldn't answer.
We had a ball that night, just a week after the incident. I was dressed in a dark blue cam, and everyone around me was in a sea of colors as well. I had stayed against the wall all night, unable to keep my eyes towards what had been the prupose of this party. Women. I was supposed to fall in love on this night, but damnit if i didn't have the heart.
There was a sudden silence, then whispers. Whispers that sounded like moans. I looked around the room, my head began to get dizy. My hand fell onto the table beside me, and i shook my head to get the feeling from out of me. My father approached, and with a stern tone he asked why i hadn't been dancing with any of the women. I didn't have to answer because he already knew. My hand rose and i waved him off as the high society always does to servants. He was flaming mad, and i didn't care. I suddenly turned after he left and headed towards the study. When i was aggrivated or even sometimes when i wanted some peace and quiet, i always turned to the study.
The study was filled with various types of books. All shapes and sizes, and even a wall filled with the members of our family dating back to the early sixteen hundreds. I loved looking at one in particular. My mother. I always talked to her as though her spirit were alive within the painting, and she would even talk back to me, saying it was all right and that things would work out. Something like that would definately have excited a psychiatrist today.
A shift in the room. I felt as though someone had been watching me. But when i turned, no one was there.
"Jonathan."
I turned as i heard my name, and there before me stood the woman from weeks past. I shuddered and stepped back. I was not scared, but only startled. How had she gotten in? I would have heard the heavy doors creak open and shut hard against it's frames. I would have heard her footsteps. She was stunning and graceful when she walked towards me. She was wearing a stunning red dress, i think it was made of satin, and the sparkeling jewels around her neck, glittered in the light that shone through the chandeleir. Her hair was worn half up and the endtrails down. The pieces of her bangs had hung half way down the sides of her face. She had a subdle look about herself as she walked towards me. I had no idea what it was she woukd actually do, but a sudden feeling told me she would not harm me. Would she? Even though i saved her from my fathers hands? No, it did not make any sense.


To be continued




~Part Two Preview~



In my early twenties i was rather a fussy fellow. Pretentious as well, but very powerful and loyal to my country. I came to the conclusion that i would in fact, not marry so soon as my brothers and sisters had. Not only for that, but because i felt it was wrong, and it wasn't my time.

In the summer i usually ran my horses through the wild brush, and along the filtered streams. The watetrfalls were particularly nice since the rainbows were always out. I would tie up my clydesdale to a thumper tree, and run over and into the water. Refreshing as it seems, it was not at one time. That was the time i saw something i knew i shouln't have seen. Some would have called it a plague. It was always that back then. Others would have simply called it death, I on the other hand, called it a blessing.