REP: Songs From a Distant Star 1 (by request)
The Antiwesley
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The man came again today. I could feel him staring at me with his
powerful eyes..
"Can you still hear the songs, Jeremy?" he asked.
I nodded. The songs were as clear as a summer's day I once knew what
felt to be so long ago.
He breathed a heavy sigh.
"Good. As long as you can hear the songs, there's still a chance."
I asked what needed that chance. Surely he didn't mean me?
"The song you hear is the cry from far off. I don't know how you can
hear it, perhaps it's part of the augmentation..." his voice trailed
off..
I could sense the frown forming on his face. I re-assured him. At this
point, the subject didn't bother me anymore. I hadn't asked to have it
done, and not much could be done to correct it now. I had learned to
live with many things in my life, but hearing the songs was something
I embraced, something I had come to accept, as they had filled my
heart with love. But the sadness came as well. The songs spoke of joy,
of hate and of love.
He had asked me once if I knew what the song was saying.
I replied that I could feel what the song meant more then what was
being said.
He asked if it had ever bothered me.
I told of him of the sadness it brought, to think that I was the only
person who could hear the song.
He told me that there were others like me, and that someday, they
would learn what the song meant. Until then, it would haunt them in
their dreams, it would be on the tip of their tongues. Something that
they could never touch or feel, yet they would know that it was part
of them.
Steps approached.
"I have to go now."
I nodded.
"I'll be back, Jeremy.." he said with a soft lilt to his voice,
speaking volumes on the sadness in his life. Perhaps he could hear the
song as well.
He then disapeared. I heard the door open.
"Jeremy? Time for your next shock treatment."
Every time I was visited by the other people, I told them of the
songs, and I would hear the pens scribbling on the papers, and knew
that they did not believe me.
I had asked if they heard the song, and they told me they couldn't.
But they knew of ways that they could make the singing stop.
I told them I didn't want it to stop. I wanted the song to go on
forever.
They told me that it was all in my mind and that the treatments would
help. I told them that the other man had told me they were songs from
outer space. They scribbled more. Delusional. Shock from the accident.
They would leave and then he would come back.. I asked him when the
pain would stop and I heard the sadness in his voice.
"Soon, Jeremy, soon. For both of us."
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The body was wheeled out of the hospital room. The doctors had found
the young boy's serene, almost calm face disturbing, as if he knew
something they would never know...
The orderly pushing the gurney looked at the attending doctor, handing
over a piece of paper he said, "We found this tucked underneath the
bed."
He handed over a single folded, sheet of paper. The doctor had thought
this very odd, as the patient wasn't able to write, let alone actually
having a piece of paper and a pen to write with..
Opening it, he began to read aloud.
'Can you hear them?
Can you hear me?
My voice it calls out
across the void.
It calls out in my voice.
I hear the songs of distant stars.
as they are dying just like me.'
He folded the paper up and carefully placed it in the folder and
walked down the hall.