Post by kaibasgirl on Aug 23, 2007 16:35:02 GMT -5
Lullaby
He stood there, by the open window, face turned towards the moon. Dark, wispy clouds drifted across its pale surface, as he stared ahead blankly, the silence pressing against his ears. Nothing moved, even the wind dared not disturb the heavy atmosphere, as he listened to the sound of his wife’s soft footsteps as she padded across the hall.
It had been happening for the last three weeks now, like some morbid ritual. Every night, at the same time, she’d get up, and he’d hear the creak of a wooden chair as it rocked back and forth. Then it would start. The singing.
“Hush little baby; mama’s near,
To brush your hair and calm your fears.”
She had a beautiful voice, so melodious; it was the very same voice that often spoke words of comfort in the past, but now carried a haunting tune. His hands gripped the sill tighter, as her serenade continued.
“To kiss your cheek and hold your hand,
Till you drift off to sleepy land.”
He closed his eyes, as he wondered what had happened to his wife, to the woman he had fallen in love with; the one who seemed such an unbreakable pillar of strength, who raised him up like he raised her…where had she gone…where had she disappeared to…
“To help you count those little white sheep,
And sing you songs till you’re asleep.”
Couldn’t she see he was suffering too, couldn’t she see that it was killing him inside. Why wouldn’t she turn to him, yell at him, beat him, break down in front of him; why did she insist on keeping up this charade. Was she trying to hurt him on purpose, did she blame him for what happened, did she think…did she think it was his fault.
“To tell you tales of kings and queens,”
“Katara?”
“Of Jack and Jill and wonderful things.”
“Katara, please,” he begged, approaching her. The room was vast and empty, save for a crib that stood against the wall. She ignored him as she rocked in her chair, facing the open window.
“So snuggle up and hold me tight,”
“I know this hurts you, it hurts me too, but it’s time to move on! Please Katara, listen to me!”
“And dream sweet dreams all through the night.”
“Katara, our child is dead!” He cried, the pain and anguish evident in his voice, and she finally looked up at him, startled. “Please, this is tearing me up inside too, but I need you! I’m still here, can’t you see that?! I promise you, I promise you our next child won’t die, please Katara, listen to me!”
For a moment, he thought he saw something flash behind her eyes. Something of the old Katara, the girl he’d known since he was twelve, the one who had so much spirit and spunk…but then the shattered look returned, and her eyes reflected anger, as she stood up, clutching the pile of rags to her chest.
“Get out.”
“W-What?!”
“Get out, Aang, get out! How dare you say such things about our child, how dare yo-no, no, ssshhhh…shhhh…it’s okay, mommy’s here, don’t cry sweetheart, daddy didn’t mean what he said, shhhhhh,” she glared at him angrily, as she comforted the bundle in her arms.
“Katara…” he wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake her, knock some sense into her! But all he received was an icy, defiant stubbornness that was so much a part of her as was everything else. “Please Katara…”
“Get out now, Aang! Don’t you dare come face me again if all you can do is tell such horrendous lies!”
He was left with no choice; he walked out of the room like a man who’d lost something irrecoverable, and listened to his wife whisper endearments to nothing.
“It’s alright honey, don’t worry, mommy won’t let daddy say those things ever again…sssshhhh…it’s okay, I’m here, don’t worry, you can stop crying now, shhhh…mommy’ll sing you the song again, you like that one, right? Sshhhhh…”
He took up his vigil by the window, shutting his eyes as the last stanza floated down the corridor towards him.
“And every night when the sun goes down,
You’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town.”
He bowed his head, the tears streaming down his cheeks.
The singing began again.
"Hush little baby; mama’s near,
To brush your hair and calm your fears…”
