Deathwatch

EDITED PIECE:



DEATHWATCH


  "Louise was an angel sent to us from Heaven who was called back too soon. This world is a darker place without her in it, and the only consolation I have is that she is in a better place, where there is no more pain and no more struggle. She is at peace”, Robert Dante told the mourners who filled the chilly cathedral.

Faceless people offered him sympathies, words were spoken, earth was spilled over the beech wood coffin with an awful, final thud, but all that he could see was the terrible image that had been seared into his soul at the morgue. He had steeled himself to be prepared for the very worst, but the sight of his daughter’s face had turned his veins to ice, had leeched all the breath from his lungs, winding him as effectively as a shot to the stomach. It had been the face of a stranger that looked like his Louise, her lips tinted blue, veins tracing her eyes, her skin greasy, waxy and still. With her ruined beauty filling his vision but forever beyond his reach, he was utterly alone for the first time in his life- except for the ticking.

He had heard it before, this phantom noise, from his wife and from his daughter before they had died. And on that dreadful Saturday when the police had knocked on his door, it had begun anew. A faint, curious discord that seemed to come from no discernible place, though he had ripped his house apart searching for it. With each passing day it had grown louder, tormenting him, taunting him, reverberating through the walls of his lonely abode.

As he stumbled home from the church, the world a blur before his tired eyes, the ticking seemed to fill his entire world. That night as he lay in bed staring listlessly at the ceiling, listening to the echo of that ceaseless, bellowing beat, he finally realised that it was counting down the very last minutes of his life.

He dreamt that the clock had rewound, and that he was back in time watching Louise play the main role in a violent horror movie. He found himself looking through his daughter’s eyes, experiencing her emotions and seeing all that his selfishness had veiled from him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t say the words most desperately wanted her to hear, and he couldn't stop the tape.

 
The day it began had been a sunny Tuesday, and Louise had been at her best friend Marnie’s place. She had been spending more and more time away from home, unable to cope with her mother’s slow decline into an illness that was turning her into a caricature of herself, and her father’s painful absence as he withdrew further and further away from family. She opened the door to see her father standing there and listened in shock as he told her about Andrea's death, the AIDs, everything. The two words, 'she's dead', had an impact like that of slamming into a brick wall. She felt numb, drained, locked in time. All that she could do was stand at the door with a smile of greeting still plastered on her white face. And all that she could see was a blood- red tide of death that threatened to drown her. Watching, Robert wanted to run to her, cradle her in his arms and tell her that it was all right. But he couldn't, and he hadn't.

  He watched her go through stages- shock, stubborn denial, self- pity, misery and guilt. But she never really left the first stage of shock, and she never reached the last stage of acceptance. She walked around like a zombie, doing what Lucia called 'going ghosting', haunting all of Andrea's favourite places, the paths she used to walk, the buses she used to catch, all the while oblivious to life. She wanted to scream out her anger, her misery and her sorrow until nothing mattered any more, until her emotions poured out of her like raging rivers, until things could return to normal. But she couldn't open her lips to make the sounds, all her words had dried up inside of her along with her heart.

  The soft sea- blue of her eyes became a cold, steely grey. Her hair, once a beautiful mane of chestnut wildness, changed into a limp mass of orange clay. Her peaches and cream complexion, a chalky mass of pasty, splotchy ruined landscape. She completely cut herself off and retreated into her own shadowy world. Her Aunt Annie, the nightmarish woman with whom she stayed, didn't even care. She simply roped one of her own children into sliding food under the door, forbidding them to speak to her lest her 'condition' was catching, responding with an indifference so thick that had he been able, he could have reached out and touched it.

  Suddenly Louise changed. She got up, brushed her hair, took a much needed shower and put on fresh clothes. She slid down the stairs like a homecoming queen to be met by a sudden astonished silence. Robert's face contorted into a twisted mask of cyclonic fury. "I'll kill Annie so help me!", he thought. Louise asked Annie for the car keys. Aunt Annie snorted, glared at her contemptuously and tossed her the keys. "She didn't even come to the FUNERAL!", Robert's mind screamed in rising panic. Louise strolled happily outside and eased herself behind the wheel. Then she sped off to her doom. As soon as she reached the freeway she let go of the wheel, jammed the accelerator and slammed into a tree. "Annie even had the nerve to complain that she wrecked the car! ", he howled as his knees gave way underneath him and blackness swallowed him up.

    The last thing that Robert remembered before he woke was that Andrea and Louise were standing together with linked arms and smiling at him with shining faces.


  When he finally woke, he thought long and hard. AIDs was not the only thing that Andrea had died of, and it had not been the car crash that had ended Louise's life.

When he and Andrea had gone through their painful divorce, Andrea had been pregnant with Louise. Theirs had been a common problem, they loved one another but couldn't live together without causing one another pain. Andrea had not wanted the divorce, had been determined to make the marriage work, so she had gotten pregnant in a desperate attempt to get him back. Her plan had failed miserably. He had supported Louise, loved her from afar, even come to see her once or twice but he had completely ignored Andrea, something he now deeply regretted. He hadn't been able to face Andrea because she was, in his eyes, proof of his failure. He'd seen their marriage as one more hurdle that hadn't been able to jump and both Louise and Andrea were living, breathing reminders of his incompetence.

Andrea had escaped from her painful reality into the drug world, where she contracted AIDs from a dirty needle. Andrea's lonely death had destroyed Louise, making her hate everything and everyone, including herself. She had needed him, but he hadn't been able to face her, looking so much like Andrea, taunting him with his shortcomings. In the end, death had been a haven for her, a freedom from pain and loss. He'd heard the ticking from both of them. Did this mean that he was going to die too?

He mentally clicked down on the stopwatch that was ticking away his life.

'Time to live", he whispered, "the deathwatch has stopped ticking".


ORIGINAL VERSION:

DEATHWATCH

"Louise was perfect, to me she was an angel from Heaven, sweet and pure. I console myself at her sudden death with the knowledge that she's in a better place. My life will always feel empty without her, but I'm glad that her struggle is over" Robert Dante told the mourners who filled the chilly cathedral.

  Last Saturday he'd been called to identify his daughter at the morgue. The memory left him breathless. The worst aspect was that though he told everyone else to remember Louise as the cheerful, flamboyant teen that they'd fallen in love with, he could only remember her as he'd seen her in the morgue. He'd thought that he'd been prepared for the worst, but her pale face had left him in ruins. With both his wife and daughter gone, he felt utterly alone, except for the ticking.

  The ticking was the anguished cry of the dying soul, the countdown. He'd heard it first from Andrea as she died of AIDs, then coming from Louise, and finally it filled his entire world. At first he thought that he'd be glad to join Andrea and Louise in death, and then he had a dream that changed his life. He dreamt that he was back in time watching Louise play the main role in a violent horror movie. But although he could hear her thoughts and feel her emotions, he couldn't stop the tape.

 

 
  It was Tuesday and Louise was at her best friend Lucia's place. She had been feeling hurt and upset because Andrea had been pushing her away in an attempt to shield her from the harsh reality of her illness. Louise had known for a long time that Andrea was sick, but that had been all she had known. She opened the door to see her father standing there and listened in shock as he told her about Andrea's death, the AIDs, everything. The two words, 'she's dead', had an impact like slamming into a brick wall. She felt numb, drained, locked in time. All that she could do was stand at the door with a smile of greeting still plastered on her white face. And all that she could see was a blood- red tide of death that threatened to drown her. Watching, Robert wanted to run to her, cradle her in his arms and tell her that it was all right. But he couldn't, and he hadn't.

  He watched her go through stages, shock, stubborn denial, self- pity, misery and guilt. But she never really left the first stage of shock, and she never reached the last stage of acceptance. She walked around like a zombie, doing what Lucia called 'going ghosting', haunting all of Andrea's favourite places, the paths she used to walk, the buses she used to catch, all the while oblivious to life. Which wasn't really surprising, all that she could think about was death. She wanted to scream out her anger, her misery and her sorrow until nothing mattered any more, until her emotions poured out of her like busy rivers, until things could return to normal. But she couldn't open her lips to make the sounds, all her words had dried up inside of her along with her heart.

  The soft sea- blue of her eyes became a cold, steely grey. Her hair, once a beautiful mane of chestnut wildness, changed into a limp mass of orange clay. Her peaches and cream complexion, a chalky mass of pasty, splotchy ruined landscape. She completely cut herself off and retreated into her own shadowy world. Her Aunt Annie, the nightmarish woman with whom she stayed, didn't even care. She simply roped one of her own children into sliding food under the door, forbidding them to speak to her lest her 'condition' was catching, responding with an indifference so thick that had he been able, he could have reached out and touched it.

  Suddenly Louise changed. She got up, brushed her hair, took a much needed shower and put on fresh clothes. She slid down the stairs like a homecoming queen to be met by a sudden astonished silence. (Robert's face contorted into a twisted mask of cyclonic fury. "I'll kill Annie so help me!", he thought.) Louise asked Annie for the car keys. Aunt Annie snorted, glared at her contemptuously and tossed her the keys. ( "She didn't even come to the FUNERAL!", Robert's mind screamed in rising panic.) Louise strolled happily outside and eased herself behind the wheel. Then she sped off to her doom. As soon as she reached the freeway she let go of the wheel, jammed the accelerator and slammed into a tree. ( "Annie even had the nerve to complain that she wrecked the car! " , he howled as his knees gave way underneath him and blackness swallowed him up.)

    The last thing that Robert remembered before he woke was that Andrea and Louise were standing together with linked arms and smiling at him with shining faces.

 


  When he finally woke, he thought long and hard. AIDs was not the only thing that Andrea had died of, and the true reason that Louise had died was not because she had crashed the car.

When he and Andrea had gone through their painful divorce, Andrea had been pregnant with Louise. Theirs had been a common problem, they loved one another but couldn't live together without causing one another pain. Andrea had not wanted the divorce, had been determined to make the marriage work, so she had gotten pregnant in a desperate attempt to get him back. Her plan had failed miserably. He had supported Louise, loved her from afar, even come to see her once or twice but he had completely ignored Andrea, something he now deeply regretted. He hadn't been able to face Andrea because she was, in his eyes, proof of his failure. He'd seen their marriage as one more hurdle that hadn't been able to jump and both Louise and Andrea were living, breathing reminders of his incompetence.

Andrea had escaped from her painful reality into a drug world, where she contracted AIDs from a dirty needle. Andrea's lonely death had destroyed Louise, making her hate everything and everyone, including herself. She had needed him, but he hadn't been able to face her, looking so much like Andrea, taunting him with his shortcomings. In the end, death had been a haven for her, a freedom from pain and loss. He'd heard the ticking from both of them. Did this mean that he was going to die too? He mentally clicked down on the stopwatch that was ticking away his life.

  'Time to live", he whispered, "the deathwatch has stopped ticking".