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Short Story - A Midnight Remembered |
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‘A Midnight Remembered’
Twilight mischief twinkled in his eyes, midnight blue and flashing fire blasts as he peered back at the call of his name. Moonlight flickered off his pale face as he turned completely, shaggy locks of black and emerald streaked hair falling over his shoulder slightly obscuring those most beloved eyes that stared so intensely as I made my way through the gravestones. The hem of my skirt swayed about my knees in anticipation, my steps faltering as I stumbled over the uneven ground. His body moved to shield mine at once catching me just before the fall, his arms gathering me against his chest protectively. I smiled gently up at him; one hand trailing fingertips down his jawbone to his lips, those soft pillows mine had so often touched. “Harper,” My name, spoken as though it were a hymn in itself, sent a shiver down my spine, his fingers running up it to hold my neck as we melted into one another, eyes locked, breathing matched as our heartbeats pounded together in perfect time. We’d called ourselves cemetery lovers, as we were meeting by midnight and loving our dark relationship more and more as time went by, two teenagers who first met on Halloween night their freshman year. I was the Punk-Rock-Zombie surrounded by Trick-Or-Treating friends dressed as fluffy pink bunnies and tutu-wearing princesses, and he was the new boy in town handing out candy from his front porch dressed as Dracula. As soon as we saw each other we were doomed to love one another for the rest of our lives, though in truth neither of us really tried to fight such a ‘death sentence’ very much at all. If I’d had a choice, I would have been with him always, dark or light as the world was, but it wasn’t my decision to make. My father didn’t approve of him, my wonderful Artie, as we both knew full well. I’d dared bringing him home just once, just long enough for us both to see the look of disgust upon my father’s face and feel the stab of pain from his rejection of the one I loved. He’d forbidden me from seeing Artie again without ever knowing him, without giving him a chance to explain himself or our relationship. The black of his clothes and the liner under his eyes had been too much for my father to handle, let alone that it was quite clear he wasn’t the All-American Baseball Player type of boy my father dreamed I’d introduce him to one day. He said Artie wasn’t good enough for me. I knew he was wrong. After that disastrous night, we rarely shared more than longing glances and a few stolen kisses during our school hours, saving our words for our ghostly audience of the moonlight. By day we remembered the kisses we shared under the stars, waiting for the next dark hour of our lives when we could be together again. Waiting, slowly, patiently, for the night to fall had become a constant in my life as well as his, the only time we felt we could truly be together. He was, and is, my gothic love, my dark angel, or very simply put, my one and only Artemis. Through everything, the years of sneaking out my window and pretending we were nothing more than friends during high school, Artie showed me that no matter what the obstacle is, if you love someone enough, you’ll find a way around it. Even my father and his demands that I find someone else to fill my heart with couldn’t pull us apart, even when that meant hanging on the arm of another boy in front of my only parent time and time again. Our friends were understanding, both sets more than willing to help us find ways to have alone time without the restrictions of the cemetery grounds, mine lying to my father when he randomly showed up at the movie theater we were at while his snuck him out to the parking lot. I had never dreamed of perfection in a significant other, would never have expected anyone to stand by me through anything as difficult as duping a father who would kill him as soon as look at him if he ever found out I had disobeyed his orders to end our relationship. Artie stood by me through all of it, even watching as I was forced onto date after date with the rich and well-bred sons of my father’s employees. My father thought he could force me out of loving my dark rose, but all he did was push me deeper into the nestled tangle of his thorns, those petals that wanted so badly to drink me in forever if only given the chance. The dream prom was a scam, though my father never knew. My ‘date’ showed to pick me up in his dark tuxedo with a white carnation boutonnière in his breast pocket, endured the pictures and shook hands before helping me into ‘our’ limousine. As soon as we were down the road the car stopped, an almost identical limousine pulling up along side it, Artie and the friend posing as my date switching vehicles quickly before we headed off again, my actual boyfriend hurriedly switching my carnation for the black rose corsage that matched the one in the breast pocket of his hot pink and black pinstripe tuxedo. A friend took our pictures once we arrived, everyone we knew determined to keep our secret and make sure that it was a night we wouldn’t forget. They all knew our struggle against my father and time, understood the torment of our being kept apart even though they had never suffered it themselves. After the dance and the parties we hurried to the cemetery for our last dance, parting for our separate faux dates to please my father. The kiss on the cheek at my doorstep we were sure to let my father see, the cherry that we had all agreed would make our ice cream deception seem legitimate, hurt my heart more than I had banked on. That had been the first time I could remember crying myself to sleep since my mother had died when I had been a young girl, the next day falling into my love’s arms to apologize for something he had already forgiven me for before it had ever happened. Part of our perfectly planned lie or not, it had made my heart break, had made me realize I would rather die on the spot than ever lose him, than be with anyone else no matter what my father wanted. Love, however dark, simply is what it is. Love doesn’t choose. Love is blind. The ring Artemis gave me at our graduation ceremony put an end to it all, all the fighting with my father, all the doubts that we couldn’t stay together after high school. That golden diamond band, along with the twin acceptance letters to the college we had both prayed would take us, is my future and my hope. This circle can’t be broken, no matter what my father wishes or demands of me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had always dreamed it would come to this, that we would make that final leap into a commitment that was built by love and forged with our twin commitment. The thought that marriage would be part of our life together astounded me at first, but after the initial shock, I found only happiness and an excitement that Artemis was willing to share himself with me and me alone, forever, however long we both lived. ...And however long it is that we stay together, I know now I won’t ever see my father again through any of it. I’m as dead to him as the graves of those we once had to steal our kisses standing over, bats flying overhead through the night sky. I have no family left, save my love. I need no family, save this lover. My father spoke to me just long enough after the proposal to say he wouldn’t come today, that he could rather die than see me share the name of someone he could never find it within himself to approve of, even if only for my sake, his one and only daughter. His stubbornness stings still, even through my intense happiness. It’s hard to lose a parent, even one who could never allow himself to allow me to go after the one thing that makes me happy in my life. The church bells ring and sounds for us, that familiar march begins, and the black veil falls over my eyes as the doors open for me. The alter awaits me down that isle I cannot wait to travel, beside it the twilight prince of my fantasies, the only one I could ever think of staying with through all the years to follow. The seat I had saved for my father, regardless of his attitude towards my soon to be husband, in the front row is empty as I expected it would be, and yet it still brings tears to my eyes. This isn’t the pearly white wedding he always imagined seeing me the star of, standing beside the son he always wished he’d had. A cemetery wedding set on the night of Halloween, the bride in black to match the groom, was never his taste as it is mine. He could never force me to be what he thought I should be, just as he could never bring himself to be the supportive parent I always thought he could have been had he only tried. Then my eyes find Artemis’ and I’m home at last, all sadness forgotten in the sheer bliss that I know being his wife will so shortly bring me. The hope in his eyes as he looks at me, the beginnings of tears shining there, say it all in a way I never could have said aloud. Love was enough to get us through my father’s first refusal, and seeing the one I’ve always loved now standing before me I know that love will be enough to get us through this, his last stand against us. I relish walking down this path, alone, towards the man who will in moments become my husband now and forever. This circle can’t be broken once it’s placed upon my finger. This love will be the only thing that matters. This will last.
YukiRiiku18 · Sun May 31, 2009 @ 07:06pm · 2 Comments |
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