"Six of hearts on to the seven of spades..." I swiped the cards off the table at the realization that, once again, I had lost. Swearing under my breath I went to put them away. As I pulled the last one out from under the chair, I happened to look up and see the clock. Darned thing, it was still three minutes fast, but that didn't change the fact that it was well after midnight. Sighing I sorted the cards like I always did. I found the aces, then the twos. I sat there for several more long minutes, stacking the suits in perfect order.
Except I never finished. My palm whapped against my forehead as I realized just how missing the king of spades was. Just to be sure, I searched the room again, but no. Wherever it was, it was no where near here. I had been playing Solitaire all evening with a deck of 51. I swore again, but this time louder. Cursing the inventor of Solitaire. When had it been invented? Who cares? Frustrated I slam-dunked the incomplete deck into the trash. I would buy a new one...eventually.
I slipped into bed. The cool sheets were soothing against my tired hands. Let me tell you, you can never play Solitaire for three hours straight and not have somewhat sore fingers. I sighed, and curled up. I was nearly asleep when someone tapped on my door. I sat bolt upright, in a blind panic. Who could it be? Everything was locked like usual, and nobody had the key but me. I considered calling the police to report a burglary, but what kind of burglar knocks on the bedroom door? Still, I picked up my nearest weapon--the lamp--and tiptoed toward the door.
It's not like it could be anyone dangerous, I thought to myself. The knock came from the bottom of the door. I smiled slightly, I must see who this mysterious visitor is.
But I hesitated.
For I still remember last week, the last week in December, all too clearly.I held here in my arms, my sweet, sweet Lenore...The fire was burning low. The dim light cast spooky shadows on the walls and floor, but neither of us were scared of them. No, I was scared for Len's life. My most darling angel. The One. My wife, as of two weeks ago. She died in my arms that night. I had felt sure that her spirit never left. She couldn't move on. I couldn't save her, and she never forgave me for it. The next two days were terror, and the last few were better because I knew for sure that she had forgiven me, but was still, for whatever reason, still here. She talked with me. We had what seemed like normal conversations all the time. The only thing that seemed odd was that nobody else could see her. She was as clear as day to me; her voice, the sparkle of her eyes, and the perfect curve of her back under my hand.
My hesitation in front of the door did not last long. Lenore must have come to visit. I don't know why I was so worried. Behind me the dark violet curtains, the ones Lenore herself had handmade, rustled uncertainly. I kept telling myself, it's just Lenore. It's just Lenore.
I swept away the last of my fear. Putting the lamp on the floor, I told her, "I know it's you, dear, but I was almost asleep. I almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet." I opened the door, arms open to embrace her. I opened the door, only to find nothing but darkness behind it.
I stood there for a long time, afraid again. Was it a dream, the knocking? Was there a burglar, tapping lightly only to tease me? Still, just to make sure, I whispered, "Lenore?" No reply, save for the faint echo down the hallway. I turned back to my room, closing the door behind me, my stomach churning. I was really quite nervous. I started toward my bed again, collapsing heavily onto it upon hearing another, louder knock. This time, though, it seemed to be coming from my window. My heart thumping, I looked up. Calm down, I told myself. It's probably just Lenore again, teasing you.
And so I went to the window, and, upon opening it, was startled by a raven. It strutted in purposely, not pausing until it reached the old bust of Pallas on a shelf above my door. My darling Lenore, always a fan of Greek mythology, had put it there and I hadn't brought myself to pull it down. He perched on top of it, completely still. I stared at it, smiling softly at the story I might tell Lenore when I next saw her, about the bird, so stern and stately. She would be thrilled. Just for fun, I asked him, "I know you are not an evil thing. Now, tell me," My voice taking on a slightly sarcastic tone "you dark old bird, from whatever dark shore you come from--What kind of name might you have?"
He said, "Nevermore."
I reeled. It may be abnormal for one to speak to a raven, but it's even less normal for the raven to reply. I was fascinated, though confused, by his plain response.Was he to say the his name was 'Nevermore'? How odd! But, then, it is even odd to find a raven in his room, on a bust above the door. But still, regardless of the simplicity and plainness of his one-word response, there was much emotion behind it. It sounded as if, in saying that one word, 'nevermore', he had exposed himself, poured out his soul to me. It occurred to me that 'nevermore' might not just be his name, but the definition of his very being. My eyes mirrored his sad expression as I murmured to myself, "He's just another one who will come and go. He'll be gone soon, it will be as if he were never here, just like every other happy thing in this world.
He said, "Nevermore."
I looked up, startled. "But God seems insistent on sending me one misfortune after another." To myself, I said, under my breath, "I'm sure that whatever he says he is forced to by some cruel master. Someone who said it to him, over and over, until the only thing this raven thinks, breathes, and cares about is this 'never...nevermore.'
Still, even though I felt sorry for it, this raven made me smile. I pulled a chair up nearer to the door, put a pillow on it, and sat. I sat for several minutes, wondering what-all else could cause this creature to say nothing but 'nevermore.' I sat for a long while still, the whole time the bird seemingly staring into my soul. I said nothing, and he said nothing. My thoughts brought me back again to Lenore, and I choked back tears as I realized again that she would never sit here again. Nevermore. I was struck again by the meaning of that one lonely word. My breath came in gasps as I stared the raven in the eyes. "Wretch! God sent you, he and the angels. They sent you to torment me with memories of Lenore, trying to make me forget her even! Don't bother, I will never forget. You forget, and leave me.
He said, "Nevermore."
"You evil thing!" I cried. "However you got here, you don't care. You just don't. You just want to haunt me with horrors, you were sent as a living nightmare! But since you are here, you devil," my tone turned pleading, "Is Gilead as wonderful as everyone says it is?"
He said, "Nevermore."
I yelled some more. I screamed insults at the bird, so intent on forcing me to relive my worst nightmare a hundred times worse. But I needed to ask this God-sent thing another question. "In God's name, bird, tell me, does Heaven hold my beautiful girl, my wife, whose name is so precious it must have come from angels?"
He said, "Nevermore."
"Get out of my house!!" I shrieked. "Just go back to wherever you came from! Don't leave anything behind that might remind me of you. Just leave. Me. Alone." I began to sob. "Just get off of Pallas. Stop hurting me with your words, and leave." I could hear sirens in the following silence, before...
He said, "Nevermore."
He didn't lie. I can still see him in my mind's eye, sitting on Pallas. It's slowly fading. I soon found out that the sirens were for me. The doctors told me that a neighbor had heard me screaming through the open window, and called the police. They told me that I had severe schizophrenia. It has to be impossible, though. Why should I go crazy? Lenore is still with me. I need out of this hospital. As soon as they started force-feeding me medications Lenore abandoned me. The raven is going away, too. I can live with that, but I can't live without Lenore. I cry every night, calling her name with no answer. I think my mother came to visit once, but she didn't come in to see me.
I managed to break out once. It hurt when the I.V. tore out of my hand, but I barely noticed the blood. The heart monitor wailed when I unhooked myself from it, so I kicked it. It stopped. I ran. I stole some scrubs and made it outside. I went home, only to find myself locked out. I peered into the window, and saw my mother crying. I ran again. I didn't need a guilt trip, even though I don't even know what to be guilty for. After an hour or so of hiding from the dispatched police forces I knew were out to find me, I saw Lenore. She was hazy though, and wouldn't talk. I yelled her name, and she looked at me, but she wouldn't come. I screamed when the raven landed on her head. He looked at me, then her. When he met my eyes again, I knew what he was about to say, so I said it for him. "Nevermore." Having finally accepted that Lenore would never come back to me again, I allowed myself to be found, thoroughly scolded, and locked in another room. I was hooked up to another I.V. They fed me three times a day for two years. I hadn't seen Lenore or the raven for almost that long. They let me out, gave me a bottle of pills and a prescription, and smiled. I smiled back. I allowed to ask myself one more time if I might ever see Lenore again.
I said, "Nevermore."
Spoiler
I had 3m. I used The Raven by EA Poe.
